State of Flux
by lemon-sprinkles
Summary: Everyone's life is continually changing- melding and reforming again and again throughout the days, months, and years. For Chris, his life was always in a constant state of flux, giving him little time for reflection. WeskerxChris
1. Failure

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the settings/characters in the below peice of fiction- they all belong to Capcom. _

_Warning: Not much for this chapter  
_

**Authors Note: **Here it is- the multi-chapter Resident Evil fanfiction a few people have been asking me for! I realized that almost all of my RE fics were simply oneshots, and that I was having a lot of idea's that could work as oneshots... or as you can see, placed together to make a multi-chapter story! Basically this is the story of everyones favorite hero, Chris Redfield. I plan on writing about his life from being discharged from the Air Force all the way up to Africa- so a period of 11 years. This is a way for me to fill in the blanks of the story that aren't in the games, as well as cover the games themselves in my own creative manner. I am trying to stay as close to canon as possible... but with a few... creative liberties.

For instance, the MAIN pairing will be **WeskerxChris**. Yes, that means homosexuality. But I will also spend a great deal of time developing Chris' relationship with those who also effected him, like Jill, Claire, Barry, etc. in a manner that I believe is befitting of how they all interact in the games. If you've read my story 'Hurt the Ones You Love' you may get an idea of what this story will be like.

One thing I must stress is that you better be in it for the long haul, because this story is going to be looooong. This is something that a lot of you (hopefully) don't have a problem with!

Without further ado I present to you all chapter 1!

**

* * *

Chapter 1- Failure**

_It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all - in which case, you fail by default. _~JK Rowling~

Chris sat on the cool metal chair, stance rigid and straight as he stared dead ahead, trying to think of absolutely nothing. The collar around his shirt was too tight, the lacing on his boots too snug, and the atmosphere surrounding him was far too stuffy.

The sound of keys clacking on a keyboard resonated around the room as the secretary copied down information from certain profiles, giving Chris a headache as the usually miniscule sound thundered around his head.

He hated to admit it but he would take comfort from anyone at the moment, and just so much as a smile from the secretary might be able to calm his nerves. But the secretary didn't even cast him a look as she changed papers, eyes firmly glued on her work as if Chris would taint her with his 'unruly attitude' if she so much as even spared him a glance.

He felt like he had been sitting in the same location, on that same chair, in that same pose, for hours and hours- the minutes ticking by as slowly as molasses. Really, he had only be waiting for five minutes, but the tense situation surrounding why exactly he was sitting there was getting to his sense of time and sanity.

A few more minutes passed with Chris tugging at his collar when he thought no one was looking, while casting quick glances at the mahogany door that sat closed a few feet away from him, until the door finally opened revealing his General, a grim look on his face.

Standing up quickly, Chris snapped into position and saluted his superior, showing little of the emotions that were currently trying to break him down.

"At ease, Redfield." his General commanded, making Chris relax just a fraction. Signalling for him to come into the office, Chris followed slowly, palms sweating and breathing shaky.

Taking a seat when told to, Chris sat at the edge of the chair betraying just how nervous he was despite his best efforts. Sitting down across the desk from him, his General fiddled with a sheet of paper, eyes downcast before looking at Chris- meeting his gaze head on.

"I'm sorry, Redfield. I wish this could have gone differently, but reviewing the case and speaking with other officials… well…" Handing Chris a sheet of paper slowly, his General let out a soft sigh.

Taking the sheet, Chris glanced from the paper to his General before back down at the sheet to read the top of it, already knowing what it was going to say.

'_Defence Department Form 214'_

Taking a few steadying breaths, Chris tried to stop his vision from swimming before looking up at his General.

"Officially discharged…" he mumbled, looking away again. He couldn't stand the stern look he was receiving from his General- or now his Ex-General.

"Yes… I'm sorry, but you only brought this upon yourself. What you did was incredibly reckless and-"

"Yeah, maybe in your eyes, but the way I see it is that if I hadn't done what I did, you and a hell of a lot of others would be in the hospital right now," Chris fired out, anger overcoming him as he looked at his General- no longer shying from his gaze.

"You refused to listen to orders, Redfield- not to mention you continually responded in a negative manner to any and all authority. How can we trust a man such as you in the line of duty?" the older man shot back, eyes narrowing as he stared down his ex-subordinate. "You showed us your true colours when you pulled that reckless stunt in Operation Southern Watch and we can't possibly keep you on board with the American Air Force. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to accept this."

"This isn't right, though!" Chris said as anger soon turned to desperation. This was his _life_- his very existence. He joined the military to serve his country, get a sense of balance, and be a better brother to his sister.

After the death of his parents, Chris realized he had to grow up fast and enlisted in the United States Air Force as soon as he could, desperately trying to find a purpose in his life and a meaning as to why his parents just left him and Claire. He hadn't planned on serving his entire life in the army- but he expected to spend more than a few years in service with little actual experience under his belt. Yes, he was an expert sharpshooter, and yes, he knew damn well how to fly a jet, but that mean jack shit when it came to the world outside the military. The military had become his life…

And he had fucked it all up because he 'refused to listen to orders'.

"Can't I… can't you do something about this? Can't I get another trial?" he asked, desperation leaking into his voice as he looked at the calm and collected man before him.

"I'm sorry, Christopher… I can't do that. Judgement has already been passed."

Chris grimaced when his real name was used as his hands clenched down on the slip of paper that held so much meaning. "This is just… this… I-I'm sorry but I have to leave." Standing up, Chris shook his head and proceeded to the door, body shaking with pent up emotions.

"Where are you going?" his Ex-General asked, concern lacing his voice for once, causing Chris to turn around.

"I… I really don't know."

Leaving the office, Chris rushed past the secretary, and burst out of the main doors to the outside world. Taking a few deep breaths of the autumn air, Chris practically staggered to the side of the building where he collapsed against it- body shaking as he began to feel suffocated by everything. Sliding down, Chris rested his head between his knees as he dry heaved a few times- as if his body was trying to rid itself of the sickness that seemed to be trailing through his entire being.

Tears began to slowly come forth, and Chris allowed himself a small moment of weakness, allowing the tears to continue to flow. Gripping the paper tightly between his hands, Chris re-read the top of the page, a sob escaping his lips before he crumbled the sheet up and awkwardly tossed it on the ground before sliding further down so he was sitting on the ground completely. He felt broken and useless… how was he ever going to go back to everyone?

* * *

**XX**

* * *

The sound of an old screen door could be heard slamming against the wall with great force as a young teenage girl sprinted out of the house and down the sidewalk, feet bare except for the socks she was wearing.

"Chris, you're home!" Jumping forward the woman caught Chris into a strong hug, causing him to stumble backwards as he awkwardly caught her.

"Hey, Claire, how have you been?" Chris asked, steadying himself so he could properly hug Claire back. Claire moved away from the hug to kiss his cheek quickly before looking him over.

"Great now that you're home! Did you receive leave from the army to come and visit for Thanksgiving?" Claire asked, a bright grin gracing her young features.

"Uh yeah… they let me leave to come and visit." Chris nodded, easily falling into the lie.

"Claire, get back inside! You're not wearing any shoes!" Looking up, Chris noticed his Aunt standing at the doorway, a disapproving frown on her face that quickly turned into a smile.

"Hey, Aunt Lily." Chris waved slightly before following Claire back to the house, awkwardly adjusting the backpack that was hanging off of his shoulder- all of his personal belongings stuffed into a simple green army bag.

Walking up the steps, Chris was pulled into a hug with another kiss planted on his cheek. "It's good to see you again, dear. Did you get time off because of Thanksgiving?"

"Yeah, that's exactly why… hope you don't mind me dropping in uninvited." Stepping back, Chris let his Aunt examine him, admiration in her eyes as she gazed upon her sister-in-law's son.

"No, of course not, this just makes things even better. Now you two get inside, it's chilly outside." Following her orders, Claire and Chris entered the house with Claire grinning brightly despite shivering from the cold outside.

"So how long are you staying for?" Claire asked as the two sat down on the couch in the living room as their Aunt went into the kitchen to finish supper. Curling up around a pillow, Claire was practically beaming at her older brother. She hadn't seen Chris for close to a year, and although she received letters from him sometimes, it was nice to actually hear him speak. She always felt protected when she was with him…

"Uh, I don't know… few days." Chris replied, scratching the back of his head as he sat on the couch- his stance a little guarded despite the warm atmosphere. Footsteps from the basement stairs could be heard before the door opened up behind the two siblings.

"Hey, I thought I heard a familiar voice!"

Standing up and turning around, Chris smiled and moved to shake his Uncle Sam's hand, nodding. "Yeah, I guess you did…"

"Back for the holidays?" Sam asked, stuffing a rag in his dirty jeans back pocket.

"Yeah you know Thanksgiving and all. They figured seeing as how we've been training so hard they'd let us have some time off," Chris recited, a little relieved that he didn't have to admit that he was kicked out of the Air Force just yet- there was always time for that later.

His Uncle nodded, although something about his expression tipped Chris off to the fact that he didn't completely believe him. But despite that slight mistrust, his Uncle didn't say anything and just shrugged.

"Well it's good to have you back, Chris," Turning to Claire, Sam smiled and ruffled her hair, causing the young woman to squeal and jump away from him and off the couch. "How about you show Chris some of your school projects before we eat supper, huh?"

"Sure!" Claire said as she desperately tried to pat down her hair. She was trying to grow it out so she could tie it back into a ponytail, but it was still too short for that.

Grabbing Chris' arm, Claire lead him up the stairs and down a familiar hallway before going into her bedroom. It had remained pretty much the same since Chris had last seen it, only there seemed to be a few more motorcycle magazines littering the floor and new boy band posters on the walls.

"Motorcycles?" Chris asked as he picked up one of the magazines, an eyebrow raised. "Didn't figure you the type, Claire."

"Yeah, well I like them a lot," Claire said, snatching the magazine out of his grasp. "I hope on getting one once I graduate- it'll be nice to have some transportation when I'm at college."

God, Claire was already talking about College. Letting out a heavy sigh, Chris nodded and scanned the papers sitting on the desk- book reports, science assignments, pictures of her friends and…

"Is that a boy?!" Chris exclaimed, grabbing one of the framed pictures that showed her sitting close with a young guy.

"No Chris, it's actually a very masculine female- no of course it's a boy!" Claire grabbed the frame out of Chris' hands and scowled.

"Well is he your boyfriend?!"

"Yes!"

"Well what's his name?! And how come I've never heard about him before?!" Chris asked, shock marring his features.

""His name is Travis and… well I never told him about you because I never really get to talk to you," Claire said, suddenly becoming awkward. Chris was about to say something before his voice caught in his throat, making him at a loss for what to do.

It was true; they never did get to talk anymore.

"Uh, hey, look at this report I did- I was inspired by your job," Claire said, quickly changing the subject. She passed Chris a report, excitement in her voice overtaking the gloomy tone from before.

Taking the report with slight suspicion, Chris asked if it was going to bite before opening it as Claire glared at him.

'_Every Day Heros- The Men Serving the American Air Force' _

"We were asked to write a report on 'Every Day Hero's' in my English class, so I thought I would write about you guys! The report was pretty lame, mostly because it seems like something we would write in grade three… but still…" Shrugging, Claire watched as Chris slowly flipped through the report, a thin line slowly appearing between his eyebrows.

Now Chris really felt like shit.

"Do you not… like it?" Claire asked as worry making its way into her voice.

Snapping back to reality, Chris shook his head and tried to smile- although it was a weak one. "No, no it's great, Claire. I'm just a little… just a little tired. It was a long bus ride here."

Nodding slowly, Claire took the report back and set it on her desk before putting her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess you'll just have to eat and then take a nap, I'll ask Aunt Lily to help me set up the guest room later on."

"Thanks, Claire." Chris let out a soft sigh and moved to wrap his arms around Claire, hugging her close as if her presence and their family bond would help correct everything.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"If you continue to sit outside without a jacket you'll catch a cold…"

Looking over at his Uncle, Chris smiled and moved over on the porch swing so he could sit. Taking another drag of his cigarette Chris silently offered one of the sticks to him but he declined with a wave of his hand.

"I thought you would have kicked the habit in the military." Sam stated, a wry smile on his lips. Chris shook his head and laughed softly.

"Are you kidding? Smoking is used to ease the stress, and you need that stress reliever even more when you're in the military. If anything, it's just made the habit worse."

Laughing, Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose before sighing softly. The two men sat in silence after that, both staring up at the stars for a while and simply enjoying the beautiful evening before Sam spoke up.

"You got discharged… didn't you?"

Chris didn't say anything for a while, and took a long drag of his smoke before nodding. "Yeah, I did."

"Why?"

"Too reckless… didn't listen to orders all the time. Apparently I have an issue with authority which if you ask me is complete bull shit. I only have issues with authority when they're going to get us killed with their stupid orders," Chris said, not hiding the anger he had for the entire situation.

His Uncle didn't say anything for a while and just continued to sit beside, deep in thought before he spoke again. "You always were like your mother, Chris. She would always come back from school, complaining about one of her teachers and how they were being completely unjust and yet she couldn't do anything about it, or writing petitions when she didn't agree with something- even when she was only in grade five…"

Letting out a sigh, Chris butted out his smoke on a potted plant dish and closed his eyes, hating the subject of his mother because it brought forth missed memories, but longing at the same time to hear more about her…

"I… I don't know what I'm going to do." Chris said finally, opening his eyes to look at his Uncle- letting the worry show in his face.

"Well you can stay with us for as long as you need, I'm sure you can find a job soon enough that'll get you some cash while you figure out what you want to do." Sam offered as he tried to keep calm for Chris' sake.

"But… no, I mean I appreciate the offer, but I need to go do something- you know? I want… I want to make it on my own." Chris said, running a hand over his face before leaning forward on the bench. "I just wish I had some direction as to what I'm going to do to make it on my own."

"Police work."

Looking over at his Uncle, Chris raised an eyebrow slowly. "Police work?"

"Yes, I think law enforcement would be good for you. You already have experience with guns and the physical side of things, and I know you have the heart for it. You'd be doing a lot of good if you tried out… hey, do you remember Barry Burton?"

Sitting up straighter and listening to what his Uncle was saying, Chris let the words sink in before answering. "Yeah, I remember Barry. He was the younger brother of my Dad's best friend…"

"Yeah, well last I heard was he's moved to Racoon City and joined the Police Department there. Looks like things are going really well for him- he's settled down nicely with his family."

"Racoon City… you mean Umbrella's pet city?" Chris asked, highly intrigued by the way this conversation was going.

"Yeah, that's the one," Sam smiled slightly, seeing the slight hope creep upon his nephew's face. "It's a really good city- a lot of opportunity I hear, and it's not that far from this house either… so you'll always have a safety net."

Nodding slowly, Chris contemplated the situation, finding it hard to disagree with what his Uncle was saying. Police work did sound like a good fit for him- like something he'd be really good at… that was if he could hold his tongue and not 'speak out against authority'.

"You think I should do it?" Chris asked after a few minutes of mulling it over.

"I don't know- it's all up to you. But at the moment, I can't see anything desperately wrong with it. If you want I can try and contact Barry and see if he can help set you up- at least you'll know one person there."

"Yeah… yeah, I think that would be nice." Chris said as a genuine smile came to his lips.

Racoon City- it sounded like a good enough place to him.

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_Review and watch the story if you have the time~! Thank you!_


	2. Madness

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the settings/characters in the below peice of fiction- they all belong to Capcom. _

_Warning: Swearing_

_**Authors Note: **_Woah, thanks for all of the positive reviews you guys! People like you are what keep me going- I totally appreciate it! Also, thanks to all of you who watched the story too, you're loved as well! Anyways, this chapter is one of the shorter chapters I've written, it's only 4 pages. But fear not, most of the chapters I have done are close to 8-9 pages- so this chapter does not dictate how all long all the other chapters will be, it's actually the odd one out! You're also wondering when STARS stuff will show up... soon my dears, soon.

Also, shout out to MissPumpkinHead- my wonderful beta! Thanks for putting up with me!

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**Chapter 2**

_Madness is to think of too many things in succession too fast, or of one thing too exclusively_. ~Voltair~

"-so I tell her that if she tries to hit one of us, she's gonna get arrested, right? And she keeps going on and on about how she 'aint afraid of us cops and how we can't possible think about arrestin' a woman- and you gotta remember that she's in her late seventies and half way out of her window apartment with a spatula.

"Anyways, me and my partner at the time finally managed to coax her back into the room when her cat sauntered in and we say 'Hey, if you don't get back inside this minute we're taking your cat in and lockin' her up!'- boy, did that ever make her come back inside… I tell yah, people here are nuts."

Receiving a slap on the back from his new partner, Chris jumped slightly as he finally came back to reality after having completely zoned out. His partner Mike has been going on endlessly about his past cases as the two walked down one of the main downtown streets of Raccoon City- clocking in their regulated patrol time. It was Chris' first week on the job after a few months of training (and living in Raccoon City). Compared to the military, the physical side of things was practically a laugh, but unfortunately the legal side was a little more complicated.

Staying up until the wee hours of the morning for weeks, Chris had gone over different codes, laws, and regulations again and again until his final exam came. He was pretty sure he had singlehandedly supported an entire coffee company for those few intense weeks. But all of the studying had paid off when he passed the exam and began his on-the-job training.

But with on-the-job training came Chris' full introduction to the city he had only really lived in for a few months (most of which had been spent in his small apartment going over notes). Raccoon City was smaller than where he had grown up, but was still no small town with a population of just over 100,000. When he had first arrived Barry had come to meet him, giving Chris some sort of connection to a town he couldn't call home. Barry had changed a lot according to his Uncle Sam- but for the better. With a loving wife and two kids, Barry seemed more than willing to take on Chris as a sort of adopted younger brother in order to show him around the city and help him get settled.

Chris was thankful to Barry- mostly because he needed someone to support him (even though he wouldn't admit it) after a rough couple months in between the Air Force and joining the RPD. It took him a week after the first day at his Aunt and Uncles to finally admit to Claire that he was discharged, and although she wouldn't admit it, Chris could clearly see the disappointment in her eyes. But once he explained his plan to move to Raccoon and join the Police Claire was fully on board with the idea- giving Chris an even stronger push to go ahead and just do it. Despite the support though, Chris still felt like he had failed his family, and that feeling continued to linger…

And so here he was, wandering the streets of a city he barley knew, with a new partner who talked more than his ex-girlfriend (and that was saying something), and a heavy as hell police belt that was surely going to give him that typical 'cop walk' in no time.

"- but of course we couldn't arrest the damn donkey, so we ended up just ticketing the owner," Mike said, finishing yet another story that Chris had once again blocked out until the very end.

"Your stories always seem to end with animals of some kind," Chris replied as they turned a corner and ended up on Euston Street.

"Well you know if you think about it- we are animals too, right? So of course all my stories are gonna involve animals," Mike replied, a pleased grin taking over. Chris rolled his eyes but smiled.

"You really think we're animals too?" he asked, looking at the window of a closed clothing store- what was with this new animal print phase in fashion anyways?

"Well I guess it depends on what side you're comin' from, right? I mean, I don't believe in God or nothin' so I figure we're animals- just like everythin' else. You might though, but I'm not supposed to ask such personal questions." Mike shrugged and began swinging the police cruisers car keys around his finger casually.

"I don't mind, I don't really believe either… well, I think that there is a God- but I don't know what kind…" Chris said, although a little distracted due to their turn on to Central Street, one of the main streets in the city. It was busier than the other areas they had been in, and Chris found himself distracted by late night passerbys shuffling off to go get drunk after a long week of work. He watched as a young woman collapsed onto her boyfriend, giggling as he tried to catch her- both of them incredibly inebriated. Looking away from the scene, Chris kicked a flyer for a social event being hosted by Umbrella for some shoe company and sighed softly.

"You jealous?" Mike asked, watching Chris out of the corner of his eye.

"Huh? What?" Chris looked away from the sidewalk and turned to look at his partner.

"Of the couple- you were watchin' both of them. I figured you were jealous of that kinda intimacy."

"Oh, no… no I was just making sure one of them wasn't going to fall," Chris said, not completely telling the truth. He actually missed having a partner- the army didn't really allow for relationships on a physical level to develop, and it had been a while since he had had a relationship with anyone.

"Oh hey, did I tell you about this young lesbian couple who decided to try an' egg one of our police cruisers while we were still in the car?!" Mike asked, oblivious to the fact that Chris had once again become lost in thought. "Hot damn that was funny, especially when thy tried to get their way out of it by sayin' they weren't gonna throw the eggs but instead they had just come back from the grocery store and the egg container broke so they had to carry 'em! I mean really, who would believe somethin' like that?" Mike threw his head back and began to laugh; causing a few civilians to look over at what exactly had caused such a commotion.

Shaking his head and tugging his police cap down further, Chris let out a soft laugh- at least his partner had a sense of humour.

"So, how you likin' Raccoon City?" Mike asked after he had calmed down enough. The two of them had stopped at the corner of the street and were standing there, surveying the street with that 'cop' attitude. Chris realized that half of the battle with being a cop was having the proper attitude; intimidating but still approachable was the desired look (half the time Chris figured he just looked confused- he would have to work on it).

"It's okay… nice, but still a little confusing. I know how to get to my apartment and to the Police Station and that's about it."

"You sayin' you haven't been out to one of the classy pubs around here?" Mike asked, his thick southern accent resonating around the street corner.

"Haven't had the time… you know how things are, just started work, trying to pay the bills… plus I don't really know anyone here but Barry Burton."

"How old are you?" Mike asked, an eyebrow raised as he put his hands on his hips.

"Just turned twenty-four…" Chris replied, slightly embarrassed.

"Damn, you're still young, boy! You shouldn't be spenin' all your time at home! I say we go get a drink together when we're not workin', how does that sound?"

"Good to me, I could use a little break-" Chris began before being interrupted by an older man who had stumbled down the street; his white hair messy, glasses broken, and wearing clothes that looked like they hadn't been washed in quiet a while.

"Hey, sir!" Mike yelled, going to follow the dishevelled man who was yelling at the top of his lungs while desperately grabbing on to people's arms to stop them before they shoved him away.

"YOU CAN'T BELIEVE THEM- THEY'RE GOING TO HURT US ALL!"

"Hey now, sir- you can't just be grabbing people like that," Mike said, taking the attention of the homeless man.

"They need to know- if I don't get the word out then no one will survive!" Grabbing on to Chris' arm, the older man shook him as if to drive home the seriousness of the situation. Gently prying the man's hands off of his arm, Chris placed his hand comfortingly on the man's shoulder, preventing him from leaving to disrupt anyone else's evening.

"Who's going to hurt us?" Chris asked calmly as Mike's hand strayed to his handcuffs.

"Umbrella- can't you see?! They're all around us, they have their eyes and ears all over- their limits know no bounds as their spider-like fingers will trap us and take us away," The man cried desperately, eyes wide with fright as tears stained his dirty cheeks. "They hunt us down…THEY'LL HURT US ALL."

Chris looked at Mike for assistance as the older man had grabbed on to his shirt, boney fingers surprisingly strong.

"Just another crazy homeless man-" Mike mumbled, taking his handcuffs and gently cuffing the man in the front. The homeless man looked confused and began to struggle-which soon turned into pitiful wailing.

"Let's take him in for the night- he can spend the evening in one of our holding cells, it'll keep him warm for the night and he can get some food in him," Mike said over the wailing before speaking directly to the man who refused to calm down and yet followed them with little resistance.

Chris walked on the other side of the individual towards the police cruiser that had been parked a block away- shaken from the experience.

"Don't worry about it," Mike began as the homeless man had quieted down and was simply muttering as his tears continued to fall. "You get these kinda guys all over the place- they have all these conspiracy theories against Umbrella, but it doesn't make a lick of sense. So don't listen to them, alright?"

Chris nodded and made his way back to the car, taking into consideration what Mike had just said. It didn't make much sense though, he thought. Why would Umbrella destroy its own city and people?

When they reached the car, Chris opened the back and helped Mike to get the man sitting comfortably before the door was closed and the two got into the front. Starting the car, Mike drove them back to the station- silence reigning supreme except for the man in the back, speaking the truth that no one would listen to.

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_Please review and watch the story if you have the time~!_


	3. Brassiere

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the settings/characters in the below peice of fiction- they all belong to Capcom. _

_Warning: Swearing, Male/Female foreplay  
_

**Authors Note: **If any of you read the warnings up above, you're probably thinking 'WTF?! Hetero-foreplay in my Slash story?!'. Well I would like to explain a few things to you all, which will hopefully calm you all down. 1) The sex isn't written, it is just up to the sex and it cuts out before anything really happens 2) I think Chris is bisexual- plain and simple 3) The woman Chris sleeps with will be very important for numerous reasons (one of which you will realize at the very end of this chapter).

As a way to bribe you all to read this chapter, I'll tell you all that a VERY important person shows up in Chapter 4! Someone I think you're all eager to have make an apperance, I am sure. So stick with me, even through the dreaded 'heterosex'. Also, I realize that Chris joined STARS in 1996, but this story is set in 1997. The reason why I skipped a year is because the flow of the story wouldn't work properly anymore- so in order to keep things running well and give you guys the best story we will all have to pretend that Chris didn't join until 1997! I don't think that was keeping anyone awake at night, but I was worried someone might be upset, therefore the explination is included.

**

* * *

Chapter 3- Brassiere **

_The only gossip I'm interested in is things from the Weekly World News - 'Woman's bra bursts, 11 injured'. That kind of thing__._ ~Johnny Depp~

The bar would have been relatively quiet that evening. The sound of the old pinball machine being started up by some bored gentleman, the quiet chatter coming from one of the booths where some old friends were catching up, a giggle and the click of heels as young women stopped in for a drink before going to the club to dance.

It _would_ have been relatively quiet in the bar if it weren't for the four off-duty cops who were all jammed together in one of the back bar booths- alcohol and nicotine dulling their senses completely and taking away any courtesy they would usually have.

"Did you seriously pretend to fuck your general in the ass while he was bent over picking up some ammo in a training session?!" Peter, a fellow 'rookie' cop asked as he held up David who had almost fallen over in laughter.

"Yeah, I almost made all off my unit burst out laughing while we were supposed to be standing in strict formation- they would have been pissed with me if I had actually managed to get them to laugh completely," Chris said, grinning as he took another swig of his beer and watched his co-workers laugh at the idiotic things he pulled during his military days.

They had asked him to tell them some stories when they found out he served in the Air Force, and if they had asked him five months ago he would have avoided the topic completely. But now, he figured a few 'innocent' stories would be good for him to revisit.

"Man, no wonder they kicked you out!" Mike said, slapping Chris on the back roughly, causing him to spill some of his beer on the peanut shell littered table.

"Well you have got to make fun somehow," David supplied once he had managed to pull himself together and sit up properly. Running a hand through greying hair, David let out a sigh and pulled out a smoke, lighting it. "Kids these days- no respect for authority!"

Everyone around the table snorted, including David before they all began to laugh again- in part due to the alcohol, but also the environment they had created. For the past five months, on every other weekend, Chris, Mike, Peter, and David had gone to the little pub a few blocks away from the RPD to unwind and relax after days of public indecency cases, domestic abuse claims, and crazy men on the street.

When Chris had been told by his Uncle that Raccoon was a solid city, he forgot to mention the level of crazy people who called it home. He didn't know why, but for some reason there was always an odd case being called in, usually involving someone causing unrest due to conspiracy theories involving Umbrella or some other cooperation.

But despite the weird vibes Chris occasionally received, he was really starting to call the city home. He had made some friends, settled into the cop life, and really began to enjoy the direction his life was taking- maybe his life didn't have to revolve around the military.

"So, did you guys hear about the break in to one of the facilities Umbrella runs?" David asked as the table suddenly went silent.

"Yeah, didn't they send in some top Police units?" Peter asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table before jumping back as a sharp peanut shell pinched him.

Shaking his head, David frowned and continued. "They sent in just the regular guys- which is a little concerning. Luis and Barry were sent in, and I mean, this could have been serious."

Chris perked up at the sound of Barry's name, but then frowned when he realized Barry was sent into a possibly risky situation without proper support. "What happened, was everyone okay?"

"Yeah, everyone was fine. Whoever had broken in didn't manage to steal anything or do anything too bad- they just spray painted some crap on the walls. Still…" David trailed off, deep in thought.

"They should get some special units in here next time- better yet our damn city should pay for a new police unit that can deal with these situations, ya know?" Mike said, sitting back in the booth with a scowl on his face.

"It's pretty normal for these attacks to happen on Umbrella, isn't it? I figured it was just a passing phase or something," Chris said, flicking a bottle cap across the table to see Peter catch it.

"Always been that way- some people just can't stand the company for some reason. Without Umbrella, millions of people would be dyin' all the time because they wouldn' have the proper medication- or that's the way I see it," Mike ran a hand over his face and let out a frustrated growl before continuing, this time a little angrier. "I mean they're not that bad, and if these damn eco-terrorist and punk ass kids keep doing stupid shit like this, they're gonna hurt someone- maybe even my wife."

"Your wife works for Umbrella?" Peter asked, flicking the bottle cap back to Chris.

"O' course she does! I thought you knew that, Pete. She's one the researchers for the company; developin' some new medicine for kids with something or other. That's the only reason why I'm a cop up here instead back down in Texas. She was required to move up here to work on this medicine, so she, the kids and I packed it all up and trucked it up to the good ol' Mid-West." Winking, Mike took one last swig of his beer before looking at the sly grin plastered on David's face.

"What's with that look, you sly bastard?" Mike asked, an eyebrow raised as he himself began to grin.

"Oh nothing… just looks like Chris made a friend."

Glancing up from the bottle cap hockey game Peter and he had started, Chris looked at David curiously. "What do you mean 'a friend'?"

"Haven't you noticed that pretty young lady at the bar looking over at you every five seconds?"

Slowly, Chris looked over at the bar to see a young woman sitting at the counter, her lean figure shown off in well-fitting trousers and a low cut tight sweater. Catching her deep blue eyes, Chris found himself smiling slightly as she quickly looked away, a small smile tugging at her lips as well. Gently she reached up and tossed a few locks of long blond hair over her shoulder- almost as if to tempt him to come over.

Chris had always had a weakness for blonds.

"You should go talk to her! Buy her a drink or something," Mike whispered, nudging him sharply in the side. David and Peter nodded in agreement as Chris gauged his chances.

He hadn't even thought about the opposite sex for such a long time- mostly because it seemed like something he wouldn't have the opportunity to deal with for a long time. There wasn't a lot of room for romance in the Air Force, and when he started his Police career that was practically all he thought about. Sure, a little fantasy here and there was acceptable (he was after all, only twenty-three), and it wasn't like he was completely immune to such bodily needs.

Nodding to himself, Chris stood up and saluted the gentlemen at the table before making his way to the bar. Sitting casually beside the girl, Chris ordered another beer and looked at what the woman next to him had ordered, and ordered her another one- causing the woman to smile and laugh softly.

"Glad your friends finally pointed me out- I thought maybe you were immune to the gaze of a woman," she said, her voice clear and soft, carrying over to Chris' already fuzzy senses slowly.

"Yeah, I was pretty consumed by a game of bottle cap hockey," Chris replied as he quietly thanked the bartender who has given them both their drinks. "I'm Chris, by the way."

Reaching out, Chris went to shake her hand gently. Taking his open palm, she returned the shake with her own while flipping another strand of hair over her shoulder.

"I'm Mindy… is Chris short for Christopher?" she asked, taking a sip of her new drink.

"Yeah, but I don't let just anyone call me that- makes me sound less imposing and bad-ass."

Laughing, Mindy gently touched his arm, and Chris realized he really wanted to make her laugh again.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Nice place… do you read a lot?" Mindy asked as she walked into the small living room of Chris' apartment, a little tipsy for all the alcohol. Books were strewn about on the coffee table and on the couch, with papers lying everywhere. A lone photo frame sat on the side table, a picture of he and Claire before he went to Raccoon City sitting in the frame.

"Nope… well, yes, but nothing really interesting. Mostly Police crap and old military things…" Chris said, taking his jacket off and helping Mindy with hers.

"I think it's really awesome that you used to be in the Air Force," she said, turning around to press herself gently against Chris' chest- automatically dropping the coats to wrap his arms around her small waist.

"Yeah, but I was kicked out…" Chris mumbled, eyes going down to stare at her collarbone.

"I think that makes you a rebel… it's hot," she whispered, bringing Chris' gaze back upwards to kiss him gently. Chris noticed she tasted slightly of apple and alcohol, and kissed her back, desperate for more of the taste.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Mindy moved with Chris as he backed them slowly into the bedroom, trying to avoid the stacks of books and papers as they continued to kiss. When they reached the bedroom Chris broke the kiss to gently help her on to the bed, and sat back to take his shirt off and throw it across the room as she did the same, only she dropped her sweater on the side of the bed.

Chris looked at her bra- completely enamoured with the black silk and lacing that covered her moderate breasts. He figured with how drunk he was, he might have trouble with getting her bra off (how the hell did women even put them on!), but he didn't have to worry about it as she sat up slightly and unhooked the bra and dropped it down to rest on her sweater.

God it had been a while since he had seen real breasts.

Moving forward, Chris captured her lips in another heated kiss as his hands wandered up to gently massage and fondle her breasts, making her moan softly into the kiss. Lowering himself between her legs, Chris found he missed the feeling of warm thighs surrounding his waist and kissed Mindy with more passion than before. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to remember any of this tomorrow, but his body would seriously thank him later.

Sliding a hand down, Chris began to play with the waistband of her pants, feeling lace brush against his knuckles and realized she was probably wearing matching underwear to her bra.

"Do you h-have any condoms?" Mindy asked as Chris broke the kiss to nip down her neck, breathing in her subtle perfume. Chris was about to say yes, when he realized he didn't actually bother to buy any.

Lifting his head up, Chris looked down at Mindy, her blond hair spread out across his pillow, lips parted and pink as she gazed at him with an amused, but lust filled expression.

"I don't…" Chris replied softly, like it was the end of the world. Snapping his hand back from her pants zipper, Chris sat up and moved off of Mindy quickly. "I'm sorry, but we can't do it if we don't have condoms."

Yes, impregnating a woman at this point in time would have been a very good move on Chris' part.

Laughing, Mindy sat up and kissed the side of Chris' neck before going to nibble on his earlobe gently. "A lady never leaves the house on a weekend without one in her purse. I left my purse on your couch… go grab it?"

Turning his head, Chris captured her lips once again in a kiss before pulling away. "God, I picked the right woman to hit on."

Standing up, Chris went into the living room and saw her purse sitting on the couch, top zipper already open. Opening it carefully, Chris tried not to snoop while searching for the condom, and spotted a red package with the words Durex plastered all over it. They made sure that even if you didn't remember the sex from last night- you'd remember what brand you used to wrap your cock.

Dropping her purse back on the couch, Chris made his way to the bedroom and stopped at the doorway to see she was lying on his bed only in her panties.

Any worries or moral dilemmas he had been dealing with about having a one night drunken stand with a girl he just met went out the window.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"I don't usually do this…" Mindy said, her voice quiet in the morning sunlit room.

Chris looked over at her to see her hands wrapped tightly around the top of the blanket that had been pulled up to cover her body, a worried line etched between her eyebrows. After having just woken up, Chris felt fuddled and bewildered at what had suddenly caused this before remembering all of last night.

"Don't usually do what?" Chris asked, sitting up slightly in the bed, torso resting back on his elbows.

"One night stands- getting drunk and going to some guy's apartment who I just met," Mindy replied, looking over at Chris. Despite her worry, she couldn't help but smile slightly at his dishevelled hair.

"Oh… neither do I. Well I mean I don't usually bring girls I have just met to my apartment, not me going to guy's places…" Chris confessed, flopping back down onto his pillow. Rolling over, Chris lay on his side and looked at Mindy closely, trying to figure out what to say next before she said something herself.

"I'm not a slut- please don't tell everyone about this," she said, biting her bottom lip.

"H-hey, why would I do that? And I never thought you were a slut." Chris frowned and moved forward to kiss her gently. "Don't worry, I wont tell anyone about this."

"Good… good, thanks Chris." Mindy smiled and sat up to start looking for her clothes.

"You going already?" Chris asked, rolling over to lay on his stomach as he watched her slip her panties back on.

"Yeah, I'm going to be late for work- I work for the biggest asshole in this city." Frowning, Mindy pursed her lips and put her bra back on quickly- astounding Chris. Really, how did girls do that?!

"Who's that?"

"Police Chief Irons- I'm his secretary."

* * *

_Hopefully that wasn't too painful for you all~! Anyways, thanks for all the reviews and and watches- you all make my day when I see such positive reviews in my inbox! And remember, next chapter will have an important person show up!_


	4. Sunglasses

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the settings/characters in the below peice of fiction- they all belong to Capcom. _

_Warning: Nothin'!_

**Authors Note:** If you read the chapter title, I'm sure you'll all know who shows up. So therefore, I don't think I really need to introduce anyone/anything. Enjoy!

**

* * *

Chapter 4- Sunglasses**

_Wearing sunglasses at night hurts your eyes after a while. _~Corey Hart~

Tapping a folder against this thigh, Chris sauntered down one of the hallways in the RPD humming a tune that had been playing on the radio in one of the main offices. Nodding his head once, Chris acknowledged one of his colleagues with a smile on his face.

Today was a good day- in fact the last few weeks had been very good. After his evening with Mindy the two had become good friends- friends with 'benefits' in fact. He didn't know what would come of the relationship, but it was nice to have a female friend around once in a while.

This day was also a good day because he was invited over to Barry's place for dinner- it had been a while since he had had a home cooked meal and was looking forward to something that hadn't been micro-waved or covered in salt in order to add some semblance of taste.

But more then that Chris got a call from Claire a few days ago saying that she was finishing up her final exams and was getting acceptance letters from different Colleges. This of course made Chris incredibly proud, and helped to give him a bounce in his step. Chris knew that Claire was trying hard, despite not being present to actually witness any of her triumphs. He was just glad that she was willing to tell him everything when he did find the time to call.

Walking along the hallway that was up above the main part of the building, Chris looked down to see numerous people congregated around the front desk and beside the large statue representing justice as it should be- civilians and police officers alike going through their daily business.

Chris was also feeling like an actual part of the city now- like he belonged in the community. Last week he had received his bi-monthly assessment and received top grades on everything for his conduct as a police officer and an official member of the RPD. No longer was he just a trainee, but a full time member of the 'men in blue'.

Coming to the end of the hallway, Chris opened the single mahogany door and stepped in to the waiting room, smiling when Mindy looked up from her work.

"Why, Officer Redfield, how nice of you to come see me," Mindy said, swivelling around in her chair to look at him as he leaned against the counter. Slapping the file folder on to the desk, Chris winked and flipped it open to give her some sheets of paper.

"I was told to drop this off before I went home- looks like more paperwork for you." Mindy made a face and snatched the papers off of the desk, flipping through them quickly before shaking her head.

"I don't understand why all of these Umbrella disruption cases need to be given to the Chief- they're just pesky little things like someone writing Anti-Umbrella slurs on an alleyway. Like the Chief really cares about that…" Sighing, Mindy put the papers down and moved her attention back to Chris.

"So, are you off for the day?"

"Yup, I just finished some leftover paperwork and I am good to go. I had a morning patrol today so things were pretty smooth. And I have tomorrow off, so that's always a nice thing to look forward too," Chris said, tapping his fingers on the wood desk top.

"Oh, well if you're not busy tomorrow night did you want to-" Mindy began before being cut off by a man who had approached the desk.

"Sorry to interrupt, but is Irons in at the moment?" The man's slight English accent carried its way to the two of them, snapping Chris out of his train of though that ran along the lines of how much he liked how Mindy's top revealed a nice amount of cleavage. Moving over slightly, Chris let the man approach the desk and began to fiddle with the pen that had been lying on an open book.

Dark tinted sunglasses, slicked back blond hair, and an aristocratic profile. _This guy looks like he could stand to be taken down a peg or two_, Chris thought before snorting softly and rolling his eyes.

Mindy and the man glanced at him, and Chris waved them off before looking away, becoming increasingly interested with the posters on the walls talking about breeding excellence.

"Mr. Wesker, right? Yes, he's been expecting you so you may go on in after signing your name in the book as per-usual," Mindy replied, cheery as ever. Looking around for the pen, 'Mr. Wesker' noticed Chris was twirling it between his fingers absentmindedly.

Realizing that the man was staring at him, Chris tore his gaze away from the ceiling and turned his attention on him, an eyebrow raised. "Can I help you, sir?"

"You are holding the pen I would like to use to sign in…" he replied, voice crisp and refined.

"Damn, sorry, here." Chris passed the pen to Wesker. Taking the pen, Wesker's fingers brushed Chris' causing him to pull his hand back quickly- fingers tingling.

"Sorry, I must have shocked you," Wesker replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smirk. Signing his name in the book, Wesker nodded his thanks to Chris and smiled slightly at Mindy before going through the door beside the desk. Chris watched the man leave, his eyes wandering down to check him out before he realized what he was doing, and snapped his attention back to Mindy.

"He seemed rather snooty," Chris said after the door was closed completely, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks.

"What, why do you say that?" Mindy asked, standing up to lean against the desk as well.

"Well he interrupted you and was all 'Give me that pen' and shit," Snorting again, Chris looked at the sign in sheet, seeing 'Albert Wesker' at the bottom in loopy, cursive writing. "And just look at how he signs his name- what a jerk."

Rolling her eyes, Mindy took the book and pulled the page out before retrieving a fresh one. "I think you're just jealous that he's a refined gentleman. He has been coming in for a few weeks almost every day to see the Chief, so he must be pretty important."

"What, for a few weeks? Is something going on?" Chris asked, no longer worried about the 'jerk'.

"Promise you won't say anything?" Mindy asked, leaning forward to give Chris a levelled stare. Nodding, Chris scooted closer to the desk. "I walked into the room once to pick up some papers, and the two of them were talking about forming something called S.T.A.R.S. I think it stands for 'Special Tactics and Rescue Squad'? Anyways, they're thinking of starting it up here for some reason."

Shrugging, Mindy moved away and sat back down on her chair as Chris stood on the spot, thinking about what this could mean.

"Think they're bringing new guys in, or are they going to recruit some of us?" Chris mused out loud.

"I don't know- but don't tell anyone what I said. I don't think it's supposed to be public knowledge yet," Mindy said before going back to her paperwork, making Chris wander out of the room, both of them forgetting about the possible date.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"S.T.A.R.S?"

"Yeah, apparently it stands for Special Tactics and Rescue Service or Squad- haven't figured out the last part yet," Chris explained as he and Barry washed the dinner dishes in the sink.

"Where did you hear this?" Barry asked, scrubbing away on one of the pots as Chris dried some cutlery.

"Uh, someone I know… who knows someone else… who knows another person." Chris shrugged and fiddled around with a fork before putting it away in the open drawer next to him. "But that's not what matters. What matters is it sounds like we're finally going to have something to deal with all of these weird cases that pop-up around here."

Pausing his scrubbing, Barry sighed and looked out the window above the sink for a moment before he began scrubbing again. "Kathy will be happy to hear that."

"She still upset about you going into that Umbrella break-in case?" Chris asked, tossing the dishcloth over his shoulder as he leaned his hip against the counter.

"Yeah, she thinks things are getting dangerous. I mean, she knows I can handle myself- I did work on a SWAT team for a while after all- but she's worried about everyone else, you know? But maybe this team will be good for the city."

"I think it will be… I'm curious to see who joins it though. Think maybe they'll let us try out?" Chris asked, trying to be casual.

Barry stopped scrubbing again and looked over at Chris, a smile on his face. "Why, did you want to try out?"

"Well… maybe. I mean, it sounds exciting. Maybe I can do something worth while, you know?" Chris said, taking the pot from Barry to begin drying it.

"Heh, you don't even know if this is actually true! But if it is, I say go for it- what have you got to lose?"

"Not a lot, I guess. Just a bruised ego, but getting kicked out of the Air Force has already beaten it into a bloody pulp," Chris mumbled.

"Hey now, stop beating yourself up about that. I faired no better in the Air Force and you know that," Barry supplied, taking the dried dish from Chris to put it away.

"You weren't kicked out though- you willingly left because it interfered with your family life," Chris said, remembering when Barry told him he had been in the Air Force too, roughly around the time Chris had joined.

"Still, I didn't last long either." Standing up from putting the pot away, Barry patted Chris' shoulder and moved to walk out on to the porch with Chris following behind; each of them light up their own cigarettes before they leaned against the railing, the smoke from the sticks trailing up towards the sky to pollute the air around them.

"You should try out too…" Chris said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Listen- if this crazy little rumour turns out to be true, then I'll try out as well. But don't get your hopes up, Chris," Barry said, shaking his head slightly as he looked up at Orion.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

'_STARS- SPECIAL TACTIS AND RESCUE SERVICE'_

There, in big bold letters on a simple white sheet, tacked onto the bulletin board in the main office, was conformation of what Chris has been hoping to be true. Reading through the sheet, little information was given except that if anyone wished to try out to be a member of the team, they should take one of the slips of paper that was sitting in a box under the sheet and fill out the forms.

Grinning, Chris bent down and picked up two information packets and some sign up sheets- one for Barry and one for him.

"Are you going to try out?" David asked, coming up from behind Chris, a curious look on his face.

"You bet I fucking am," Chris said, slapping David's arm in a friendly manner before walking off to his desk- a spring in his step.

"Looks like someone got laid last night," Mike said, coming to stand beside David.

"Nah, he just found out a new way to try and get himself killed," David said as he took a sip of his coffee. "You know how guys his age love to do the impossible."

* * *

_I WEAR MY SUNGLASSES AT NIGHT, SO I CAN SO I CAN, WATCH YOU WEAVE THEN BREATHE YOUR STORY LINES! All of you who guessed Wesker showing up were correct- although he doesn't play such a big part in this chapter, he'll certianly be very important in the future... or maybe... next chapter? Oooooh! Anyways, thanks SO much for all of the amazing reviews- you guys ROCK! I appreciate the fact that you're all comfortable with the pace the story is going because I don't want to rush anything, and I'm relieved to see you all agree too. Anyways, thanks again!_

_ Oh, and a few of you may be all 'Hey, you decided to make Wesker English!' -and that I did. Why? Because it seems like Capcom wanted him to be English from the beginning. I read an interview with DC Douglas (the VA for Wesker in UC, DSC, and RE5) and he was saying that when he did Wesker's voice they asked him to keep the English accent for UC, and then to slowly lose it in RE5 when he became more crazy and insane near the end of the game. So that's why I made him English! _


	5. Interview

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below peice of fiction. It all belongs to Capcom_

_Warning: Just Wesker being a dick_

**Authors Note: **I had a really crappy week- a terrible, rip your hair out week kinda week. All you guys need to know is University sucks for me right now, if you want to major in History be prepared to write insane essays, and that I was interviewed by the cops about a murder that happened a block from my house. No, they don't think I did it but they were asking people if they had heard anything... Anyways, the point in all of this is I felt shitty, so I felt like posting this up in case any of you (amazing) guys were having a crap week too. Enjoy!

* * *

_A date is a job interview that lasts all night. The only difference between a date and a job interview is that there are not many job interviews where there's a chance you'll end up naked at the end of it. ~_Jerry Seinfeld~

"Don't look so nervous- you know interviewers can smell fear," Barry mumbled to Chris, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Shut up, I'm not nervous," Chris hissed out just as he went to tug at his tie for the third time that minute. "I'm just getting impatient- they've already interviewed six other guys and I'm getting antsy just waiting here."

"They're not going to hire everyone who goes through that door, Chris. Just relax; you'll get in if you're natural."

Running a hand through his hair, Chris bounced his leg up and down quickly as he glanced at the door on the other side of the room where another man had just gone through not fifteen minutes ago. The interviews seemed to be longer than most interviews, and Chris was wondering what exactly was going to be asked of him when he entered.

He understood that they wanted to be thorough when they chose who would join the STARS team- it was, after all, an 'elite' group of people who would be held responsible in dealing with the tougher situations that would occur from time to time. Before he could even get to the interview stage, Chris had to go through some shooting trials, physicals, and psychological assessments (all of which he did before he joined the RPD- apparently he could go crazy after working for the system for just six months), mental tests and tests on the legal codes of Racoon, and finally he was up for an interview.

"Do you know who's doing the interviews?" Chris asked after getting even more agitated after listening to silence, intermittently interrupted by Barry coughing softly to keep his throat clear.

"I don't know- I thought you would be all over the information seeing as how you've been stalking anyone who has any information on STARS."

Chris was about to say something about not stalking when the door at the end of the room opened and an older man stepped out, a shaky smile on his lips.

"A Chris Redfield is wanted next," he said, taking his suit jacket off to toss over his arm. Standing up quickly, Chris almost knocked his chair over as Barry reached out to steady it.

"Good luck, mate," the stranger said, patting Chris on the shoulder before he left the waiting room in a hurry. Chris was about to ask if it was that bad, but didn't have a chance and was left to stare at the door.

"Are you going to go in?" Barry asked, seeing Chris hesitate.

"Yes, just a moment." Cracking his neck, Chris took a deep breath before opening the door and striding in- displaying the confidence he had when he was in the military.

Closing the door behind him, Chris looked ahead to see a metal desk with a free seat on one side, and a lone male sitting on the other side.

Black shades caught the light that was coming from the ceiling, flashing as the man looked up from the papers before him to look at a familiar face.

"And you must be Christopher Redfield," Wesker said, motioning for Chris to take a seat.

Chris didn't even correct Wesker on the Christopher part and pulled the chair back from the desk, making the metal feet scrape loudly against the floor. Wincing slightly, Chris sat down quietly and placed his hands in his lap.

"Yes, I am... and you must be Albert Wesker," Chris said, sticking his hand out to shake it. Wesker took it and shook it- his strong handshake letting Chris know how self-assured he was through the simple gesture.

"You didn't shock me this time," Chris said, laughing nervously as he remembered the last time their hands touched. Raising an eyebrow, Wesker looked at Chris curiously, which prompted him to continue. "You know, when we met outside Chief Iron's office and I was playing with the pen you needed to use to sign in… and then our hands touched and you shocked me."

Chris was looking at Wesker desperately- hoping the man at least recognized him a little bit.

"Ah… yes. I suppose that is how you know my name already as well- you must have snooped through the sign in book," Wesker said, a smirk tugging at his lips. Chris blushed but didn't look away- he was determined to show his confidence. He had faced down enemy air fire in the Air Force; he could certainly deal with this guy.

If only he would take off those damn sunglasses.

"Anyways, now that the familiarities are over, let us begin the interview shall we?" Wesker asked, but didn't wait for an answer from Chris before continuing. "Let's start by asking you why, exactly, you think you would be good for this sort of job."

Twirling an expensive looking pen between his spider-like fingers, Wesker waited patiently as Chris thought over his answer quickly.

"Well, I think the situations that STARS will have to deal with are the sort of things I would be really good with. I'm a passionate person, and I really want to make a difference in the community. I joined the military to do that, but since I left I've been looking for something that will give me back that sense of meaning and I think joining the STARS team will give me that back. Also, I thrive for excitement."

"Then you're an adrenaline junkie?" Wesker asked, an eyebrow raised as his pen stilled and became poised over a slip of paper.

"No! Well, I like adrenaline- it gives me that edge in situations, but I don't actively go looking for it," Chris stated quickly, watching as the pen began to be twirled once again.

"So basically your answer is that you enjoy excitement and making a difference in the lives of others?" Wesker didn't sound particularly impressed, but he didn't really have much emotion in his voice anyways- making Chris struggle to read what exactly he was thinking.

"Yeah, I guess that's it," Chris said, sounding lame even to his own ears.

Nodding once, Wesker jotted a few notes down before flipping one of the sheets over. "You mentioned the military before… it says here that you were discharged from the American Air Force due to an inability to follow orders. Care to explain this?"

The pen began to twirl again.

"Well, I follow orders perfectly well- it's just when someone gives an order that will clearly get someone hurt or killed, then I take issue with it and I don't follow it," Chris said, his confidence returning. He was used to this question.

"So you undermine authority and believe that you are superior in the end?"

The pen stilled.

"No, no that's not what I mean. What I mean is I listen to authority, and I don't think that I know best- but sometimes you have to go with your gut instinct, right? And sometimes that goes against orders, but you know you have to do it anyways because I think everyone should listen to what their senses are telling them."

More notes were jotted down quickly, Wesker's cursive writing slowly filling the page as Chris tried his damndest not to fiddle with his tie. Wesker flipped the sheet over again and began reading through Chris' records from working as a Police Officer.

"You have excellent aim and marksmanship according to these files," Wesker said, smiling slightly.

It did little to ease Chris' nerves.

"Yeah, when I was younger I would play with BB guns and from then on I would practice my aim. Once I was in the military I could begin to really hone my skills."

"I didn't ask for an explanation- but thank you anyways," Wesker stated, causing Chris to blush yet again.

He had entered as a confident Ex-Army member, and would no doubt be leaving as a pre-pubescent little girl.

"You have some medical background thanks to the army… a pilot's license… and numerous other little licenses and background knowledge." Wesker continued to scan through the papers before stopping at the psychological assessment sheet where it said that Chris had passed, with little else on it.

"You went through the psychological assessment as well, I see."

"_Do you ever feel like you're trying too hard? Like you're trying to please too many people?"_

"_No… why would I? I do this all for me." _

"_And none of this is connected to your parents' death, and you wishing to fill that void that they left for your little sister?"_

"_I guess that has something to do with it… I don't think about it a lot."_

"_You seem to not think about your emotions often, Christopher."_

"_It's just Chris… please."_

"Yeah, I went through them as well," Chris said, happy that it looked like the reports didn't go into great detail about what he was asked.

Wesker hummed softly and jotted down some more notes, leaving time for Chris to watch the man before him. He was intimidating and reserved, that was for sure. And despite only having really met him a little while ago, Chris had a feeling like this was the only side he would ever see of him. Not a hair was out of place in his gelled back blond hair; his sunglasses were of an expensive brand and clean- with no smudges apparent at all on the glossy black surface. And his suit was no doubt dry cleaned and well pressed, with no out of place crease.

Basically, Wesker was the complete opposite of himself.

But what Chris really noticed about Wesker was his hands- they didn't appear to be that of a man who used guns often and worked in rough environments. Instead, his fingers were long and delicate, and the skin soft and hydrated. Chris began to wonder what gave Wesker such a position to interview and start up a special force unit, but didn't dwell on such matters as he was broken from his thoughts by a small cough.

Looking up from Wesker's hands, Chris saw that he was looking at him, an eyebrow raised above the rim of his sunglasses.

"Are you alright, you seemed to be somewhere else."

The pen had stopped twirling.

"Yes, yes I am fine. I was just thinking about you actually."

Chris regretted saying it as soon as it had slipped past his lips. If it wouldn't have killed any chance of getting into STARS, he would have literally slammed his head against the desk.

"Oh, well that is rather… interesting. Care to elaborate on what, exactly, intrigues you about me?" Wesker asked, his head tilting slightly to the side- the pen still not twirling.

"I was just looking at your hands. You don't have any calluses or anything that would indicate you work with firearms, and you look so… put together, I guess. You don't strike me as the type of man to be working in a situation like this, so I began to wonder about your qualifications. Not that I don't think you're qualified," Chris added on hastily.

"Those are very good observations, Mr. Redfield. I can assure you that I am more than qualified for this job- but I admire your quick observations."

The pen began to twirl again and Chris found himself able to breathe once more.

"I just have one more question- it should be simple enough. Why is it that you would like to join the STARS team?"

Chris looked down at his shoes for a moment before looking back up at Wesker. "Because I want to make a difference in this world, even if it is just helping a few people in this little city."

Wesker smiled softly this time, and Chris realized that maybe he hadn't screwed everything up terribly. After writing a few more notes, Wesker stood up and Chris followed suit.

Reaching across the table, Wesker shook Chris' hand firmly before letting go to look down at the last folder to read Barry's name.

"It has been a pleasure speaking with you, Christopher. You should receive a call sometime in the next week about your standing. Now if you wouldn't mind, could you please call Barry Burton in?"

Again, Chris didn't even correct Wesker on using the name Christopher and gave his thanks before hurrying out the door before he could make any more mistakes.

Closing the door and walking into the waiting room, Chris noticed Barry had already stood up and looked ready to go inside- he was, after all, the only one left.

"How did it go?" Barry asked quickly.

"I… honestly don't know," Chris replied, a puzzled look on his face.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"What do you mean you don't know if it went well?" Claire's voice carried through the phone and over to Chris' ear clearly, little static appearing to disrupt the conversation.

"I just don't know. I mean, this guy wasn't very forthcoming with information in the way he acted. Even when he smiled I wasn't sure if it was a genuine smile, or if it was a smile that really said he was going to bring my complete and utter downfall," Chris said as he poked the cooking pasta he was making for dinner with a spoon.

"That sounds reassuring," Claire replied, amusement evident in her voice. "But did you say or do anything out of the ordinary that would compromise you getting into STARS?"

"I, uh… stared at his hands… a lot," Chris mumbled after a few moments of staring at the white bubbles that were floating around the noodles- popping every so often as if to drive home the fact that Chris' bubble may have just been burst.

"That's not normal, Chris."

"I know that's not normal, Claire!" Chris hissed out before groaning softly. "See, now I'm thinking I fucked it up…"

"Don't be so childish, _big_ brother. I'm sure you did fine- other than the hand staring I think it went well for you." She emphasised the big part in order to snap Chris out of his mope-fest and get him to act his age. It seemed to work when Chris mumbled a 'yeah I guess' before he started to swear profusely.

"What? What's going on?!" Claire frantically called out as Chris almost dropped the phone.

"My god damn noodles boiled over!" Chris moaned, watching the water lower itself as the heat was turned off. Turn around for one second and he'd managed to kill one of the simplest dishes to cook. "Anyways, I should go. I'll call you later, alright?"

"Yeah, okay. Just don't wait almost three weeks to call again, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I won't. Love you."

"Love you too, Chris."

Chris went to hang the phone back up on the receiver, and eyed the pot of noodles from his vantage point in the kitchen.

God damn cooking… damn it to hell.

Going back into the kitchen, Chris went looking for a strainer, deep in thought about the day's events- or more importantly, deep in thought about Albert Wesker.

He was a strange guy, and Chris didn't know if he admired him or hated him for his closed off and guarded attitude that he wore so well. Chris, at times, wished he could be like that- he wished for the ability to just not give a damn about anything.

It would certainly save him a world of hurt in the end, he understood that. But something prevented him from closing himself off and from not caring about what happened to other people.

Bringing the pot over to the sink, Chris dumped the contents into the strainer that was poised above the sink and watched the water separate itself from the spaghetti noodles, eyes glazing over as he continued to think.

One thing was for sure, though… Chris knew that Albert Wesker would always intrigue him.

* * *

_Thanks for all the reviews/reads/favorites/watches etc. You guys make it all worth while, and I appreciate all of the wonderful feedback! Next chapter we will finally have our STARS team up and running- excited?_


	6. STARS

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below peice of fiction. It all belongs to Capcom_

_Warning: Edward's got a dirty mouth  
_

**Authors Note: **I'm posting this in celebration of the release of 'Lost in Nightmares'! I've already played it and I had a blast, so I hope if you guys download it you have fun too! Also, isn't Chris' Warrior outfit the gayest thing you've ever seen, especially in the pose they gave him for the bottle cap figure?! xD Speaking of which, if any of you guys have a PS3, you should message me your username and I'll add you and we can be buddies, yo! Anyways, on with the story!

**

* * *

Chapter 6- STARS**

_We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars._ ~Oscar Wilde~

Chris couldn't help but stare at it- it was absolutely mesmerising.

Never, in all of his life, had Christopher Redfield ever seen something so beautiful or so brilliant. He felt like he would be blinded if he looked at it too long and he almost felt unworthy to be gazing upon it.

"You should really stop staring at it," Barry mumbled under his breath as he leaned closer to Chris in hopes of snapping him out of his daze.

Looking up quickly, Chris realized that they were still standing there in the media room of the RPD, cameras and their bright lights positioned right at them as Chief Irons spoke to the media. He was leaning forward on the podium, his entire stance relaxed and uncaring as he replied to certain questions in a gruff manner.

Chris really should have been listening to what the Chief was saying, especially how it concerned him and his fellow members- but god damn, his new STARS badge was just so beautiful.

They really shouldn't have given him the badge right away; he was bound to stare at it now.

"-And so, I would like to introduce to you the new Captain of the STARS Alpha team, and the… mastermind behind this project, Albert Wesker." Chief Irons practically spat out Wesker's name before leaving the podium quickly as Wesker approached it, a polite (but forced looking) smile upon his lips as he took center stage.

"Thank you, Police Chief Irons," Wesker began as the cameras from newspaper journalists began to flash. "I would like to thank you all for showing your interest and concern for the Police Force that continually protects the citizens of this strong city. The dedicated men and women who serve the city have done a great deal for Raccoon, and they continue to do so in an effective and collected manner. Unfortunately, as many of you may know, certain situations continue to arise that put even the best trained police officers in danger. This is why a special unit was created- S.T.A.R.S.

"The few men behind me at the moment are the new faces of this important service, and will protect those who cannot protect themselves. Hopefully, over time and with more funding, more members will be added to combat the increase in violent and dangerous crimes that are being committed on a too frequent basis. With the help of STARS, I hope that this city may become a safe place for all of us. Thank you."

A flurry of activity started all at once, with questions being shouted out left, right, and center in the room, and Chris noticed that he and the other members were being dragged out of the room with Wesker at the head of the line. He, Barry, and four other men he had just met quickly followed a silent Wesker down the hallways of the police department, all of them wondering where exactly they were going.

"Where are we going?" Chris asked loudly as they turned a corner and went up a flight of stairs.

"To your new office- now be quiet and follow me," Wesker replied, not even turning his head to acknowledge Chris as they passed through the hallway with the three statues Irons had placed in a few months ago and told everyone not to touch them.

Opening another door, they entered a hallway that would soon lead to the interrogation rooms, but stopped at a door that had a new sign placed outside it.

'S.T.A.R.S. Office' was written in blue over a white background. Pulling out a small silver key, Wesker quickly unlocked the door and stepped into the room after opening it. Flicking on the lights, the small room was illuminated for all to see.

On one end of the room sat a radio and control station, new machines buzzing away as they booted up and began to collect airwave data to store inside them in case the information was ever needed. An empty bookcase was beside it, and a door was in the corner- no doubt leading to another room.

There were four desks visible in the room, three in the middle with empty cardboard boxes on them, and one at the head of the room with papers and files already on top of it. A large STARS emblem was on the wall behind the head desk, and a bookshelf sat beside it with a variety of books already sitting atop it.

"Enrico, you and your team have your own office behind that door over there. Get your men settled in and we'll have that meeting in here at six as previously discussed," Wesker said as he loosened his tie and walked over to his desk.

The man Wesker has spoken to nodded and took his men (who had introduced themselves as Forest and Edward to Chris beforehand) to the room over, excited looks gracing their features.

Meanwhile, Chris, Barry, and a new guy named Brad Vickers were left to stand in the Alpha Team office, awkwardness radiating off of them as Wesker went to his desk and scribbled down a few things on a sheet of paper before standing up and finally turning around to look at his men.

"Go to your old desks and take all of your belongings and put them in those boxes." Wesker pointed at the boxes on the empty desks. "Then come back here and get set up- after that you're free to go home… and congratulations on making it. Although I think I have already stated that."

Wesker began walking to the door with his slip of paper before Chris' voice, once again, distracted him.

"Wait, we don't even get to have a moment to soak it all in?" Chris asked, a little affronted by Wesker's aloof and rather rude behaviour. He and his new teammates had worked hard to get onto this team, and Wesker didn't even seem like he gave a fuck.

"I think you'll have plenty of time to 'soak it all in', Christopher. Besides, I would have thought you had enough time to stare at your badge." When Chris gave Wesker a look of surprise, he continued while walking to the door. "Don't think I didn't see you staring at your badge while we were in the public eye. You would have thought the damn psychologists would have written something about his obsession with shiny objects."

The last part was muttered under his breath as he left the office, but everyone had heard it. They were all silent as they stared at the door before Chris decided to say something.

"What the fuck?!" he yelled, causing Brad to jump slightly.

"Hey, don't be like that," Barry said, patting Chris' shoulder before going to one of the desks to grab a box. "He's probably just really stressed right now- his team is finally up and running and the media is all over it. It's sink or swim from now on for him."

"Yeah, but he doesn't have to be such a dick!" Chris growled out, going to grab a box as well with Brad following suit.

"I have to agree with both of you. He was being a dick, but I think he has his reasons," Brad supplied, trying to ease the tension in the room. He had only just met these two men and he could already tell that there would be more explosions to come thanks to Chris Redfield.

Chris was just upset that one of the greatest moments of his life had been ruined thanks to a dickhead with sunglasses.

"I'm just upset that one of the greatest moments of my life has been ruined thanks to a dickhead with sunglasses," Chris voiced out loud as the three men left the office, boxes in hand.

"How old are you?" Brad asked, causing Chris to glare at the shorter male.

"Old enough that I know I'm being childish, if that's what you're getting at," Chris said, shoving the box under his arm as the three of them walked down to their respective areas. Once they were down the stairs, Chris and Barry started to go off in a separate direction than Brad.

Although Chris and Barry had never met Brad before, he had still worked at the RPD for longer than the two of them. He was part of the transportation system for the RPD, working as a mechanic and a vehicle specialist. He was apparently the one behind the upkeep of the helicopters that every police officer wanted to take a ride in.

Chris was pretty jealous of Brad for snagging the spot as 'Pilot' in Alpha team, mostly because that meant Brad would get to fly them everywhere. Chris longed for the day when he could be back in the air, controlling the skies. That was the one thing he had absolutely adored about being in the Air Force- the skies.

Maybe he could convince Wesker to instate him as the backup pilot? He figured if he stopped calling the man a dickhead he might have a chance of that.

"See you guys in a bit," Brad said as he continued down a separate hallway, leaving Barry and Chris to go to the main office where all of the other officers were waiting to see two of their colleagues off and into the abyss that was S.T.A.R.S.

Stepping into the office, Chris smiled at Mike, who was already sitting in his spinney office chair.

"Hey now, I haven't left yet and you've already staked claim on that chair?" Chris said, tossing the box at Mike, who caught it before it smacked him in the face.

"I'm just preventing anyone else from taking it. You know how my old spinney chair broke, so I've longed for a new one." Winking, Mike stood up and placed the box back on the desk before tossing a few papers into it.

"It's only broken because you spun around on it too much," Chris said as he began packing his box up with random items that he figured he would need. He didn't really enjoy packing, even if it was packing up to go to a better office and a better job. Something about the idea of leaving, even if it was just up the stairs, made Chris feel a little sad.

"What's with the long face, partner?" Mike asked, causing Chris to shake his head and smile.

"It's nothing, just going to miss working with you." Mike shoved Chris' shoulder gently and laughed.

"Come on, now. Don't be getting all soft and sentimental. You're moving upstairs, that's all."

"I know, just thinking about how I am closing another chapter in my life. It's always good to reflect on that… anyways, you should take the chair before David snags it- he's got a look in his eyes," Chris said, changing the subject.

"Mm, you're right. I overheard him talkin' about snaggin' the chair from me. Probably just to spite me, too."

Wheeling the chair away from Chris' desk, Mike left Chris to shove the rest of his belongings into the box with little thought behind it. Picking it up, Chris waved at Barry, who was still packing his box (carefully, mind you), and headed back up to his new office.

Opening the door, Chris saw Wesker was back and was huddled over his desk, writing down reports and documents, no doubt. Deciding to leave the man to his work, Chris slid his box onto the desk and began unpacking with little thought behind where he was placing the items.

Humming a tune to himself, Chris slid the box further onto the desk and almost knocked the keyboard from the new computer off of the desk. The wire caught it from completely sliding off, and Chris scrambled to pick it up, losing the 'K' key in the process.

Putting the keyboard back onto the desk as casually as he could, he glanced up to see Wesker staring at him- his sunglasses gone- and his piercing grey eyes boring holes into his very existence.

"Uh… sorry, I was just… trying to catch the keyboard," Chris mumbled, feeling exposed under Wesker's intense gaze.

"Just… just don't break anything. Well, do not break more things- I see you've lost a key." Wesker let out a heavy sigh and shook his head before going back to his paperwork, breaking the gaze that had held Chris in. Nodding, Chris continued to watch Wesker for a moment before going down on all fours to search for the missing key.

Shuffling around, Chris noticed the key had fallen under the desk and let out a small sound that sounded close to 'fuck' before he reached his arm out and tried to grasp the key. More shuffling ensued and a few more swears were muttered before Chris finally snatched the key and stood up, a triumphant smile on his face.

Sitting down with an exaggerated sigh, Chris took the keyboard and tried to place the key back in its rightful place before noticing Wesker was looking at him again.

"What?" Chris asked as he slowly placed the keyboard back on the desk.

"It's nothing. Just go back to trying not to make any sounds," Wesker said as the pencil in his fingers stilled.

"Hey, before you go back to your work I want to say something." Standing up, Chris walked over to Wesker's desk and sat down on the edge, causing the older man to stiffen slightly. Ignoring Wesker's discomfort, Chris continued. "I obviously have done something to make you angry, and I just want to say I'm sorry for acting like a child today… Captain."

"It is alright, Chris- just don't do it again. I hired a professional and I expect such behaviour. Have I made myself clear?"

"Clear as day, Captain. Clear as day." Saluting Wesker, Chris smiled and waited expectantly for an apology from him as well- after all, he was being rather rude to his entire team a little while ago.

Wesker went back to his writing before he realized that Chris was still sitting on his desk, looking at him like an eager puppy dog.

"Is there… something else?" he asked, looking back up at Chris.

"Uh… don't you think you should give me an apology too? In fact, shouldn't you give Brad and Barry ones as well?"

Wesker looked at Chris for a moment before going back to his work. "I don't apologize for such trivial matters. Besides, I do not believe I was in the wrong and the apology would be meaningless. Now please get off of my desk- you're not supposed to sit on them; this is why we have chairs, Christopher."

Chris continued to sit on the desk, staring blankly at the man before him before standing up stiffly. Adjusting his shirt, Chris cracked his neck to the side before walking away slowly. Water off a duck's back… that was that.

Just let it go, Chris. Let… it… go.

"You know, you're a real ass," Chris said, spinning around while internally cringing. Why, why didn't he listen to his own advice? "If you want to earn respect from the team, I suggest you start treating us like we're part of your special squad and not just expendable crewmen. Remember, a leader is only as good as his subordinates, and I can make your life a living hell if you continue to be such a dickhead."

Yup, Chris could definitely kiss that 'Pilot' position goodbye.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"You mean you actually said that?! No wonder he looked ready to murder when I came back into the office!" Barry shook his head and took a swig of his beer. "Sometimes you have to keep your mouth shut, Chris."

"I think that was pretty ballsy of you- I admire that," Forest said, raising his beer bottle in Chris' direction.

The men from Bravo team and Alpha team (minus their Captains) had all decided to go out for a drink at the nearby pub to better get to know each other- and questions had been asked as to why Chris looked ready to throw up. And so he explained what had happened, causing mixed reactions around the table.

"So he really did nothing except remind you that he was your boss and could fire you?" Brad asked, an anxious look on his face.

Chris nodded and took a small sip of his beer, the nauseous feeling in his stomach refusing to go away. "Yeah… but he said it in this tone that just dripped of venom… and his pencil wasn't twirling…"

"His pencil wasn't twirling?" Edward asked, a brown eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, haven't you guys noticed? Like, when he interviewed you he would twirl his pen around if he was in a good mood, and if he was on high alert or didn't like an answer he'd stop twirling… no one noticed that?" he asked slowly, looking at the amused and confused expressions around him.

"Sounds like someone's been paying a lot of attention to the Captain… one would think you liked the guy a little bit too much," Edward teased as a bottle cap went flying through the air, hitting him right between the eyes.

"Oh yeah, that's right, let's make jokes about me being gay for the guy. Ha ha, real funny- Chris is just a glutton for punishment," Chris snapped out, a sour look on his face.

"Hey now… calm down, Chris," Barry said, resting a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Fuck, I'm sorry Edward- I'm just stressed because I think I just screwed everything up!" Chris moaned out, sitting back in his chair to stare gloomily at his barely half finished beer.

"I'm sure he hasn't fired you- I think everyone is just really tense right now so it's understandable that some words may be exchanged," Forest said, shrugging slightly. Chris could tell he'd be pretty relaxed in almost any situation- something that would come in handy in a job like this.

"You just have to learn to bite your tongue sometimes," Barry said.

"Or if he fires you, you could always just suck his cock to get the job back," Edward said, causing Chris to throw yet another bottle cap.

* * *

_ You just knew Chris would screw things up, didn't ya? Thanks for reading, thanks for all the awesome reviews, and thanks for the faves/watches! Next time we have more STARS fun, as well as more Chris and Wesker interation (which I know you all are eager for)._


	7. Rivalry

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below peice of fiction. It all belongs to Capcom_

_Warning: Nothing today!  
_

**Authors Note: **I'm still 'setting' the story up at the moment- we'll get into the nitty gritty stuff soon enough though, so don't worry! One of my goals of this story is to not only bolster up Wesker and Chris' relationship, but that of Chris and all of the STARS members too- after all, he did work with them for quiet a while and friendships were built. In any matter, I just wanted to thank you guys once again for all of the support, whether that be through reviews, favorites, watches, etc. You make it all worthwhile, and I hope you stick with the story!

**

* * *

Chapter 7- Rivalry**

_The rivalry is with our self. I try to be better than is possible. I fight against myself, not against the other._ ~Luciano Pavarotti~

"Firearms- something we have to deal with on a daily basis in our careers. I am positive that all of you have fired weapons such as these, and have practised a great deal on your accuracy and weapon care procedures." Wesker stood before the men from Alpha and Bravo team in the shooting range, his pose seemingly relaxed with his arms crossed over his chest and feet spread slightly apart, his unloaded gun resting at his own side.

His men stood before him, listening carefully as he rambled on about gun care, preparation, and anything and everything except for the reason as to _why_ he was carrying on like this. Chris was beginning to think that Wesker had a fondness for his own voice, which really didn't surprise him. Wesker seemed to have a fondness for a lot of his own characteristics.

"-And so finally, I would like to see what you all have inside you. I have read the reports detailing your abilities with certain firearms, but I would like to see them for myself… and that is why I have brought you all here today," Wesker finished, stepping out of his relaxed pose to go to the table where the training guns were sitting.

"Vickers, you're up first," Wesker barked out, motioning for Brad to approach the table.

Brad was visibly nervous as he approached the table and looked over the weapons, trying to find the handgun model he was most used to.

"I'm not much of a marksman…" Brad mumbled out, taking one of the guns while he fiddled with the protective ear covers that were resting around his neck.

"Mm, yes, I read that in your report- afraid of loud noises, apparently," Wesker said, ignoring the obvious coughs and snickers coming from the men behind him. "You're going to have to get over that rather quickly, Vickers. You may be the pilot, but you're going to have to do more than fly a helicopter."

Nodding, Brad went up to the shooting area and put his ear covers and safety goggles on, as did the rest of the men in the room, before loading his gun. Raising his arms, Brad got into the steady stance, although his hands were visibly shaking as he aimed the gun as best he could.

Biting his bottom lip, he glanced quickly at Wesker, who was standing a distance away beside Enrico, his presence boring a hole into Brad. Looking back at the target in front of him, Brad tried his hardest to concentrate on the center black circle before pulling the safety back and firing.

As soon as he pulled the trigger he had squeezed his eyes shut and almost flinched back from the weapon he was holding. Opening his eyes slowly, Brad surveyed the target for the shot he had taken, and noticed a hole grazing the 'arm' of the object.

"Put the gun down, Brad." Wesker's cool voice carried over to Brad, snapping the man out of his daze. Clicking on the safety, Brad put the gun down quickly and stepped out of the way as Wesker stepped forward to inspect the lone shot.

"You gave the target a rather superficial wound… which would be good if we meant to merely wound him." Brad let out a soft, relieved sigh- he had obviously expected Wesker to ream him out for the horrible shot. "But…"

Damn.

"This was supposed to be a killing blow- not to mention this shot was clearly by accident on account of you closing your eyes as you pulled the trigger. We will have to work on this, Vickers," Wesker stated, vexation coursing though his words. Slicking his already perfect hair back, Wesker patted Brad awkwardly on the shoulder before letting the frightened man hurry back to his spot beside his other teammates.

"Burton, you're up next," Wesker stated, stepping back to his respective place as Barry went to prepare his gun and set things up. Chris watched in the back of the room, a casual manner about him as he watched Brad fuck up.

He had this in the bag- he was a deadly accurate shot and he knew it. No one could match him, and he knew that his skills would surely impress Wesker and maybe make the man forget about the incident a week ago.

One week had passed since the beginning of STARS- one brutal week. Alpha and Bravo team hadn't even placed their new mouse pads down on their desks before Wesker and Enrico began sending them through the ringer, beginning intense training and exercises, all just to get a sense of where they 'sat' in technique and ability. Chris went home bruised and battered everyday, his eyes already closed as he hit the mattress, only to sleep for a few hours before he had to wake again, his joints and muscles protesting the movements.

But he loved it.

He felt like he was being pushed to the limit like he had been in the army. It was like he was training to actually change something, to make a difference. He felt like he had a purpose again- something he thought he had lost after the Air Force.

But all of this didn't erase the impending doom he felt whenever Wesker would assess his training style. So far, Wesker has been rather complimentary, but Chris wanted more than a simple nod or a satisfactory statement. He wanted to 'wow' his Captain.

And this could be his chance.

Watching his fellow teammates aim and fire numerous times, Chris watched the different techniques they took when they aimed and fired. Barry was more ridged and composed than he was, like it would take ten men to knock him down as he placed carefully aimed shots. Chris figured it was because the older man preferred to use Magnums, a gun that was by no means made for an amateur.

Next up was Edward, who had a good shot but it wasn't anything amazing. Chris didn't know Edward's story, but he knew that the man was used to firearms and it showed by how relaxed he was setting everything up. But he seemed to lack a lot of the confidence that came with firing a handgun- it appeared that he was used to something with a scope. But he still had a pretty good shot, despite the slightly unfamiliar territory.

And then it was his turn.

Striding forward to the respective area, Chris put his ear plugs on and slid the safety goggles over his eyes before loading the gun carefully, a relaxed and confident air about him as he did so. Raising his gun, Chris looked over and winked at Enrico and Wesker, a smirk playing at his lips before he looked dead ahead at the target.

One- Center hit.

Two- Center hit.

Three- Center hit.

Four- Center hit.

All 15 bullets had hit their target in the middle, except for two bullets which had strayed slightly and hit the second closest ring to the center. Putting the smoking barrel on the table, Chris took his goggles off, slid the ear protectors down, and moved out of the way so Wesker could look down the hallway.

There was silence in the room before Wesker finally spoke. "You missed two."

Chris could have pistol whipped his Captain right then and there, but instead opted to stiffly walk back to where he had been before, jaw clenched and fire burning in his eyes.

"You're up, Speyer."

Saluting casually to Wesker and Enrico, Forest went to his place and busied himself with preparing his gun while Chris shot nasty looks at Wesker when he figured the man wasn't looking. Two shots, so fucking what- he could do a lot better if he wasn't working with such shitty conditions, considering everyone was watching. God, he wanted to see what kind of shot Wesker had, seeing as how he figured that 13 shots dead center wasn't something to write home about.

Grumbling to himself, Chris completely forgot to watch Forest shoot before it was all over and Wesker was actually _patting_ Forest on the back in a _friendly_ manner. Enrico seemed incredibly happy too, and Chris had to look at Barry for a proper explanation.

"Forest had 14 center hits," he said casually, a smile gracing his lips as Chris' mouth opened and shut a few times.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Christopher, would you mind speaking to me for a moment?" Wesker asked as the men began to file out of the room and back to the office.

Nodding, Chris tore himself away from the group and walked with Wesker over to the area where all of the goggles sat.

"I would like to make you the marksman of Alpha team." Wesker cut right to the chase as he straitened out the goggles so they sat in prefect order.

"R-really?" Chris asked, a little taken aback by what Wesker had said. He knew he had a good shot, but judging by Wesker's previous reaction he had figured the older man wasn't very impressed.

"Yes, despite not being perfect I realize that you are an incredible marksman, and it would be a waste not to give you such a title. I may have been harsh before, but I want the best from my men," Wesker stated as he looked away from the goggles and glanced over Chris. "Besides, no one is perfect. Well of course, that is except for me."

Wesker smirked slightly and Chris realized the man had made a joke; a slightly narcissistic joke, but a joke none-the-less.

"Oh, well thanks. I would be, uh… honoured to take the title," Chris said, smiling awkwardly and then blushing slightly as Wesker gently squeezed his shoulder before walking out of the room, letting Chris follow behind.

Who knew such a small gesture like a shoulder squeeze would make Chris feel like maybe he hadn't completely fucked things up as a new STARS member.

**XX**

Chris had been rather quiet the rest of the day, a look of concentration flitting across his features every so often as he sat at his desk, eyes scanning through some mock reports they were supposed to 'study' in order to get a strong understanding of how their reports should be correctly filled out. Chris hated paperwork, even if he only had to read it, and simply stared at the screen without reading anything.

He was still hung up on the fact that Forest had actually beat him at something he thought himself to be the best at.

He was, of course, happy that he was the marksman of Alpha Team (and wasted little time in telling Brad and Barry the good news as soon as they were all back in the office), but the joy was being overshadowed by the confusion and slight irritation he was feeling for _losing_. It wasn't a competition, or at least it hadn't been planned to be one, but Chris was feeling that competitive edge wear away at his nerves.

Looking up slightly, Chris noticed Wesker was leaving the office, giving him an idea. As soon as the door was closed, Chris stood up and hurried to the Bravo team's office in search of Forest.

Knocking twice and then letting himself in, Chris scanned the room that was similar to Alpha team's office before striding towards Forest's desk where the older male was half asleep as he too stared at the computer screen.

Crouching down beside Forest's chair, Chris grinned at him as the Bravo team marksman sat back and looked down at the eager Chris Redfield.

"Hey Chris, what are you doing…?" he asked slowly, an eyebrow raised as Chris subconsciously grabbed a paperclip and began to play with it.

"I saw you smoking earlier- wanna go up to the roof with me to inhale some delicious nicotine and forget about these mock reports for a bit?" Chris asked quietly, eyes skirting over to Enrico every so often to see the man looked just as bored as the rest of his team.

"Sure, sounds like a good idea to me." Scooting out from his desk, Forest told Enrico quickly he was going for a smoke (because apparently Bravo team was allowed smoke breaks… lucky bastards) and followed Chris out of the room and through the police halls to the roof.

They didn't say anything to each other until they had both lighted up and were resting against the railing around the edge of the roof looking out across Raccoon City.

"So that training exercise was fun today, huh? I saw you've got pretty wicked aim," Chris said casually, opening up the conversation between the two.

Forest simply laughed and took a drag of his smoke before speaking. "Yeah, you're not so bad yourself. Although I gotta admit, I was pretty damn intimidated when I went up there. I sometimes choke when I have such a good marksman watching me."

"Well I have to admit, I'm a little surprised that you beat me. Not meaning to brag or anything, but I always figured I had the best shot in the police force," Chris said, smiling as well. Although he had intended to come up here to learn the ways of Forest so he could kick his ass come next shooting practice, he didn't mind learning more about the level-headed guy.

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I figure those last two you missed were flukes, and all of mine were flukes as well… well maybe only a few." Winking, Forest gently shoved Chris' shoulder when the younger man got a smug look on his face. "Don't let that get to your head- next time we shoot I will kick your ass."

"Ha, like you said, the last ones were just flukes- I'll be ready next time." Looking back out across the city, the two men fell into an easy silence before Chris spoke again. "So… how did you get so good?"

"My Dad was heavy into guns- member of the NRA, collected certain models, you know the usual. Anyways, he would go out to the shooting range every other weekend, and when I was old enough he would take me along. I developed the love for it too and well… here I am now! What about you?"

"BB gun in the backyard and then a few years in the Air Force," Chris said, shrugging. "It became important for me to know how to aim, so I practiced hard at it. And then later I joined the RPD, where I continued to work with firearms… so I've just kept practicing."

"Ah yes, the Air Force. Why did you leave?" Forest asked, switching positions so his elbows and back were resting against the railing.

"I didn't leave. Got kicked out," Chris said. It was becoming easier to talk about it- to accept the fact that he was discharged without honours. He didn't like talking about it, but he also didn't resent himself and the Air Force anymore. That was certainly a step forward.

Forest made a face and shook his head. "Harsh man… but at least getting kicked out let you come join STARS. I'm glad I dropped out of College to pursue a career in the police force."

"What were you taking in College?" Chris asked, taking one last drag of his smoke before flicking it on to the ground and crunching it under his boot.

"I was in the Chemistry department, just taking all I could take on chemical reactions and their effect on the environment. I loved that stuff, but I found myself needing a little more excitement, you know? So I decided to join the Police and further my studies in explosives in my spare time."

"Explosives?" Chris' voice raised slightly, images of pipe bombs and dynamite in freezers flashing across his mind.

"Ha, yeah, I'm really into chemical reactions that end with an explosion. What can I say, I'm a guy! But it's come in handy, seeing as how I'm the explosive specialist for Bravo team- or at least that's what Captain Wesker says I am. We'll see how often we need to blast our way into a situation using dynamite, right?"

Chris laughed softly, figuring he wouldn't mind a dramatic entrance like that. Glancing at his watch, Chris saw they had been gone for ten minutes and figured Wesker was probably making his way back to the STARS office soon. Suggesting they leave, Chris and Forest returned to their offices with a new connection between the two.

Mostly it grew out of a rivalry- but Chris could see it being more of a friendly one than anything. With his mind at rest about his 'loss' for the day, he opened the door to the Alpha team's office with a smile on his face before he ran strait into Wesker.

"Oh crap, sorry!" Chris cried out as he pushed himself away from Wesker, who didn't seem fazed by the young man who had just crashed into him.

"Where were you?" Wesker's cool, accented voice carried through the room, chilling Chris to the bone. Letting out a shaky smile, Chris pulled out the paperclip from Forest's desk that he had slipped into his pocket and held it up for Wesker.

"I was, uh… getting you a present?"

* * *

_Next chapter will be up soon enough~! I uh... forget what it's about though. I can tell you it involves Chris though! Oh, oh yeah and maybe some uh... revelations in regards to a certain marksmans growing feelings for his Captain? Hmm... I think I've said too much. Thanks again!_


	8. Confusion

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Masturbation, mention of Male/Female sex_

**Authors Note**: So I usually don't update this quickly, but seeing as how the last update was a few days off, I figured why not make this one a few days early?! Anyways, this one is where everything starts getting 'good' for those of you who enjoy the WeskerxChris aspect of the story! So, without further ado... go ahead and read! Oh, also- read the warning up ahead. It's NSFW!_  
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Sometimes I'm confused by what I think is really obvious. But what I think is really obvious obviously isn't obvious _~Michael Stripe

Chris was getting tired of sitting at his desk when he could be out actually doing something.

For the past month and a half, the STARS team had been (in Chris' eyes) doing nothing at all. They hadn't been on any missions to 'help protect the city', they hadn't been involved in any big cases, and truth be told Chris was wondering what he was getting _paid _for. All they had been doing were numerous training exercises, the latest one being a 'trust' exercise that had involved Brad falling backwards into Chris' arms numerous times with little grace. Chris sort of understood the reasoning behind it all, but it was damn annoying and slightly patronizing to the team.

Even Captain Wesker seemed displeased with the operation as the perky resident police psychologist explained how trust is the most important thing for any team, and how it's vital that he let Enrico catch him as he fell back into his arms.

Wesker has explained that all of the training and random events that they had been doing were for him to get a better sense of his team, and later he grudgingly added that what they were being trained to do had little relevance at the moment. The number of cases involving violence against Umbrella and other risky situations had declined in the last few months, and it wasn't a matter of when they were _ready_ to go into the line of battle but more a matter of when a situation would present itself that was befitting of the STARS unit.

And so Chris and the rest of the STARS unit were stuck inside most of the time, studying different report techniques, practicing their aim and shooting ability with a variety of guns, and generally trying not to go completely crazy.

"All of you up and out. Go to the station's locker rooms and change into your workout clothes and meet me in the hand-to-hand combat training room," Wesker barked out as he strode into the office, snapping all three men out from their daze.

"Uh… you mean the wrestling room?" Brad asked, pushing himself slowly away from his desk.

"Yes, of course I mean the wrestling room," Wesker said, rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses. Leaving the room, his men had no choice but to follow him out and down the hallways while Bravo team followed a few paces back, Enrico explained that they were going to go practice some hand-to-hand combat to 'let off some steam'.

Chris was almost jealous of Bravo team for having an understanding Captain who would actually explain what they were going to do, rather than expect them to just follow him like little ducklings. His jealousy reminded him of when he was little, and his grade two teacher was the 'mean' one while his friend had the 'fun' teacher in the other class.

But while he was jealous for Enrico's more caring attitude towards his men, Chris was beginning to grow rather fond of Wesker for some unexplainable reason. Perhaps it was the fact that Wesker continually pushed him to do better, whether Chris realized that that's what was occurring or not. Or perhaps it was because he had a mysterious quality about him, living a life that Chris wanted to know more about.

Or maybe it was because Chris began to look up to the man- as much as he hated to admit it, of course. Wesker was always calm and collected, even in the strangest of situations. He always knew what to say and how to say it, easing somewhat tense situations (many of which occurred between he and Chris) in a diplomatic, and somewhat forceful manner. Chris wished he could be as composed and put together as his Captain.

And Wesker was intelligent to the point that he sometimes scared Chris. Chris had realized that Wesker had a sharp mind, but he hadn't really realized how intelligent he was on a variety of topics until one day he filled out an entire crossword in less than five minutes, causing Chris to actually check and see if he hadn't filled it out properly. It wasn't like he could verify the answers (like he really knew what sport King Charles VII of France was playing when he died (it was, apparently, indoor tennis)), but he had to see it for himself.

In short, Chris found himself trying to please Wesker and wanting to talk to the man about a variety of different things, for the chance to get a sliver of insight into him. But most of all, he found himself wanting to just be around the harsh, cold, indifferent, and completely curious Captain.

Of course, all of these feelings didn't take away from the fact that Chris still figured Wesker was a dickhead.

Amidst his musings, Chris and his fellow teammates had all made it down to the locker rooms where they had changed into their workout gear (which consisted of t-shirts, tank tops, and sweatpants) and were currently standing in front of Wesker, who was dressed in a similar style with his sunglasses discarded. Another speech ensued in which Wesker explained how physical combat was important, and that not everything could be solved behind the barrel of a gun.

"I'm sure this is mostly review for many of you, but I read in some of your reports that physical combat was not your strong suit, so I intend to remedy that. Now, Christopher, I want you to attack me," Wesker said, eyes locking with the stunned male before him.

"Wait, attack you?" Chris asked, slightly confused as to the whole 'attack your Captain' aspect of it all.

"Charge at me as if you were going to knock me off of my feet," Wesker stated, his pose still relaxed as he challenged Chris.

Chris took a moment to comprehend everything before he shrugged and lunged forward, aiming for Wesker's stomach with his shoulder so he could knock him off balance and throw him down to the ground.

It worked surprisingly well, and Chris found himself lying overtop of Wesker, who had fallen roughly to the mat, a small 'whoomp' sound accompanying the action. Chris moved slightly so his arms were stationed at either side of Wesker's shoulders, his legs resting rather awkwardly between Wesker's own.

Well this was… a little strange.

Wesker didn't seem to mind the position and turned his head to speak to his team while Chris remained above the older male, seemingly unable to move from the position. He was too enamoured with the way Wesker's body felt so warm against his own, how his piercing grey eyes locked onto his subordinate's like a hawk would on its prey, and how his thin, soft lips easily formed words with that slight English accent that Chris liked so much.

And the scent- dear god, Wesker's smell was intoxicating. He wore a rich, spicy cologne that invaded Chris' senses and made the man want to do nothing more than bury his face in the crook of his neck and breathe it all in.

He wasn't even paying attention to Wesker's explanation of how not to block an attack, and simply stared at the man who was resting under him, strange and unexplainable feelings bubbling to the surface.

He was rather abruptly shaken out of his daze though when he noticed Wesker's arms had come up and were in the process of flipping their positions, shoving Chris off of his body using slight force on his side, but mostly the momentum of Chris' falling form. Body slamming to the mat, Chris looked up to see Wesker was straddling him, his arms pressing gently against his neck in order to prevent Chris from really moving for fear of being choked.

"As you can see, I locked my arms on either side of his own and shoved him in one direction, using the momentum of his body in order to flip the positions. Now, with my arms braced against his neck in such a manner, he may not use the same move against me," Wesker stated, not paying attention to Chris, who was trying desperately to act cool and indifferent given the circumstances.

"When are we supposed to use something like this?" Brad asked as Wesker let up on Chris' neck and stood up.

"When an attacker is trying to strangle you, Vickers," Wesker replied, voice dry and slightly exasperated. Offering his hand to Chris, Wesker helped the still slightly stunned brunette up.

Chris hadn't realized that what he had been feeling in the wrestling room was anything strange or odd- it was simply admiration. That was until Wesker approached him later before they all left for the day to thank Chris for being such a cooperative wrestling partner, causing Chris to go red at the tips of his ears and mutter how he was more than willing to help Wesker out that he realized…

He had a crush on his Captain.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

He wasn't gay- Chris knew that for sure. He liked women- he liked everything about women, in fact. He liked their curvy and supple figures, their soft and silky hair that you could run your fingers through, and most of all he liked how they perfectly counteracted his masculinity. Men and women, they belonged together both physically and emotionally.

That wasn't to say Chris was homophobic or anything- he figured love of any kind, be it between a man and a woman or two men was a good thing. The world, after all, needed more love in it, right?

And Chris wasn't going to deny the fact that maybe, in his younger days when he and his friends snuck some alcohol from their parents or used fake ID's to get some beer, that maybe there had been some experimentation. It wasn't like he had had sex with another guy, but he'd made out with a few in his 'youth'- but that was all just experimentation, a phase he had gone through to get a better sense of himself and his sexuality.

He liked women- he was sure of that.

Then why could he not get the image of Wesker beneath him, breathing slightly heavy, chest pressed against his as they lay tangled together out of his mind? He had walked home after the startling realization to 'clear his head' and only ended up confusing himself further. When that didn't work, he decided to take a shower when he got home to let the warm steam fuddle his senses.

Only the warmth of the shower, coupled with the day's events were proving to excite Chris in a way he really did not want to recognize.

A warm throbbing between his legs had snapped Chris out of his musings as he strayed under the spray of the water, causing the young male to moan in frustration and pleasure. Looking down at his growing erection, Chris toyed with the thought of turning the cold water on and letting it shock him out of his rather aroused state- but decided to deal with it quickly and easily.

Sliding his hand down his chest, Chris tried to think of beautiful women- women like Mindy with full and soft lips, round and perky breasts, and gorgeous blonde hair…

Wesker had blonde hair…

In fact, Wesker has really nice blonde hair- blonde hair that Chris wanted to touch, wanted to run his hands through and muss up completely in the heat of the moment.

Chris mentally scolded himself for easily going strait to thoughts of Wesker, but let the ideas continue to come- he could regret it after the effects of the arousal wore off. Grasping his cock, Chris began to slide his hand up and down slowly, biting his bottom lip as he imagined what Wesker would look like naked and hard as nails as he lay in bed, seductive British drawl washing over him as he teased Chris to the point of insanity.

He wondered if Wesker would be his usual stoic self in bed- completely in control of the situation, or if he would let go for a moment and ride out the sexual experience to the point of pure pleasure.

Flicking his thumb over the head of his member, Chris let out a soft sigh as he imagined what Wesker's hands would feel like over his cock- how would they differ from a woman's soft and often hesitant manipulation?

Leaning against the shower wall, Chris let the fantasies and ideas wash over him until he was coming into his hand, hips jerking slightly as he released ribbons of semen that fell to the floor of the bath before swirling down the drain. Images of Wesker in numerous sexual situations flashed before him as he rode out the feeling before he was spent, body leaning against the shower wall as he breathed heavily in and out.

Opening his eyes, Chris let out a disgruntled sigh and washed himself off before stepping out of the shower. He didn't know what he was going to do about this 'man-crush' of his, but he was leaning heavily towards the 'Don't talk about it and it'll go away soon' option.

After all, if he just stopped jerking off to thoughts of his Captain (dear god, had he really just done that?!), then soon the feelings would go away and everything would be fine.

Or he would just quit STARS, move to Canada, and live in a cold as hell part of the country where no boner would ever be possible on account of the sheer numbness of the area, and live the rest of his life as a hermit.

He really hoped this would pass… he didn't want to be a hermit.

* * *

**XX**

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"You're being awfully quiet today, Chris… is something wrong?" Mindy asked, eyebrows furrowed as she inspected the man. Sitting across from her at the café where they had gone to lunch was Chris, who looked like he had been through the ringer the last couple of days. "I mean, I know the STARS training has been hard, but you look so…defeated today."

"It's nothing, don't worry about it. Just haven't been sleeping well, I guess," Chris mumbled, picking at the sandwich he had ordered for lunch. He had forgotten his lunch that afternoon and decided to invite Mindy out to the café nearby for a sandwich. A mini-date if you will.

"They really push you hard, don't they?" Mindy said, playing with the straw in her bottle of sparkling water.

"Yeah, I guess. It's just frustrating because we're not doing anything really, you know? No missions- nothing. We're all getting restless."

Mindy let out a soft sigh and reached across the table to take Chris' hand in her own, squeezing the marksman's hand gently before running her fingers soothingly along his palm. "You'll get a mission soon- I'm sure of it. Soon you're going to be so swamped with calls and people to save that you'll be exhausted from a hard day's work rather than boredom. I think everyone's just afraid of doing anything against Umbrella right now, but the hype around STARS is going down, so maybe they'll fall into a false sense of security?"

Chris hated to say it, but he sort of wished that someone would commit a serious crime so that he could get involved. "Maybe… I just hope it's soon."

Silence overcame the table as Mindy continued to play with Chris' hand, causing the young man to think about what Wesker's spider-like fingers would feel like doing the same thing. Mentally scolding himself, Chris pushed the thought away and looked up at Mindy.

"Hey, Mindy… can I ask you a question?" Chris said slowly, wondering if he should talk to his not-girlfriend about the slight predicament he was in. It had been a week, and Chris couldn't get Wesker out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. Almost every little thing would trigger some sort of fantasy or question about his Captain- and sometimes Chris figured that Wesker _knew _about his crush. But that was ridiculous, he wasn't sending out any signals at all…

Or was he? Damn it, Chris hated his mind sometimes.

"Sure, what's up?"

"What if… what if… I suggested we skip the work we have to do in the afternoon and just go back to my place?"

Chicken shit.

"Ha, you know I would love to, but we've both got obligations, unfortunately. But I'm free later tonight if you're still, you know… _up_ for it." Winking, Mindy played with her hair coyly.

Chris smiled slightly and nodded- a woman would do him some good. It would slap some sense into him, that was for sure.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Chris hated himself- he was possibly one of the worst males in all of Raccoon City, maybe all of the United States.

Running a hand over his face, Chris looked over at Mindy, who was breathing heavily, a goofy grin on her pretty features as she tried to catch her breath. The blankets were twisted around them on Chris' bed, as if to trap Chris to the current situation he was in.

"That was… amazing," Mindy huffed out, turning slightly to look at Chris, grinning. "You were like some sort of sex god a moment ago."

Chris returned the smile with a shaky one of his own, mind completely blank except for the reoccurring thought of 'You are such a dick'.

When Mindy had come over later that evening, Chris wasted no time in getting her to bed, intent on 'proving' that given the option of fantasizing about Wesker or sleeping with a gorgeous woman, he would much prefer said woman over any homoerotic fantasy.

Only when they finally began to have sex, all Chris could do was replace Mindy's soft moans with how he imagined Wesker would sound in bed, more primal and deep that would send electricity through his nerves.

All he could do was imagine that he was running his hands along firm and toned muscle, replacing the soft and warm parts of Mindy with the images and feelings of a hard and masculine body beneath and above him.

And all he could do was let out all of his frustration and _need_ on Mindy's body while thinking about someone else.

Chris had had sex with a beautiful girl who was so amazing and kind, and all he could think about- and all he _wanted_ to think about- was what it would be like to fuck around with his Captain.

And that was why Chris knew he was the biggest dick this city had ever seen.

"You weren't so bad yourself," Chris mumbled out, faking being exhausted (although he really was incredibly tired after that). Mindy smiled and inched closer to Chris so that she could rest her head on his chest, cuddling close. Wrapping an arm around her, Chris closed his eyes and began to think that maybe this wasn't just a phase.

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_Thanks for all the amazing feedback, reviews, favories, watches, etc. You guys are all really amazing, and you keep me writing! Anyways, next update shall come in due time- we finally get some action! And no, not THAT kind of action- real cop action!_


	9. Fear

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom & Michael Crichton do._

_Warning: Gun violence and swearing_

**Authors Note: **One again I gotta thank you guys for being so incredibly awesome! I've been getting a lot of reviews talking about how funny the story is, and while it is ment to be funny at times, I've gotta warn you that things will get more serious as we get further along- this chapter will be an example. BUT, that doesn't mean there still wont be entertaining bits- I can't help but add in something totally crazy! Anyways, enjoy the next chapter!_  
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Chapter 9- Fear**

_Fear cannot be banished, but it can be calm and without panic; it can be mitigated by reason and evaluation. _~Vannevar Bush~

The guitar: A musical instrument having a flat-backed rounded body that narrows in the middle, a long fretted neck, and usually six strings, played by strumming or plucking.

That was the definition according to the dictionary. To Chris, the guitar was a simple instrument that, if played properly, could convey numerous feelings through the simple strumming and manipulation of one's fingers. Well, simple was in relative terms, of course. But what mattered to Chris was the fact that he didn't have to think when he was plucking away at the strings on his acoustic guitar. He had asked Wesker a few weeks ago if he could bring his guitar into the office- a stress reliever that did not include nicotine and numerous smoke breaks.

Surprisingly, Wesker has agreed that it would be good for Chris and allowed his subordinate to bring the instrument to the office. Of course, he had a few rules to follow- like he was only allowed to play during lunch, after hours, or when he and his fellow Alpha team members were done with their work (which was never if you included Wesker's almost obsessive nature towards paper work).

And so, lunch time had rolled around and Chris was slowly strumming the strings on 'Beth' (all good instruments needed a name- or so Chris insisted) while talking to Barry about his girls.

"Polly's really been into Barbies lately. I really don't get the fascination with the plastic dolls." Barry shook his head and wiped his fingers on his napkin. Sitting back in his chair, he let out a soft sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"Ever play with GI-Joes?" Chris asked, cringing slightly when he hit a bad note. It had been a while since he had played…

"Yeah, but those were cool plastic toys!" Barry replied before laughing softly as Chris gave him a level stare. "Maybe I'm just not in tune with girls and their choice in toys."

"You just need to have a baby sister that you grew up with."

"Speaking of baby sisters, have you spoken to Claire lately?"

Shaking his head, Chris pursed his lips as he hit another bad chord. "No, she's been really busy with starting College."

Barry raised an eyebrow, watching Chris try to get a few notes perfectly in a row, only to fail every time. Groaning, Chris put his guitar in its stand and sat back in his chair, looking at Barry.

"What's with the face?" Chris asked, matching Barry's expression.

"Just seems like you're not making any effort to talk to your family. Truth be told, you've been a little awkward even talking to me the past few weeks. Is there something… wrong?"

"N-no, why would you say that?" Chris asked, internally wincing as he hesitated at the 'no'. Truthfully, Chris was closed off only because he didn't want to let anything slip along the lines of his newfound lust for his Captain. He didn't know if he would be able to face Barry if he suddenly told him about how he wanted to make out with Wesker at least once.

Shrugging, Barry moved to pick up the apple he had taken out of his lunch bag and took a big bite before going to read through the newspaper. Chris watched Barry for a moment before getting up to saunter over to the bulletin board that had flyers from two weeks ago, reading through them for the eighth time that week.

He was just about to suggest to Barry that maybe if he played Barbie dolls with his daughter he'd understand the allure of sparkling pink and chipper smiles, but was interrupted by a squawk from Brad as the door connecting Bravo and Alpha team's office opened and slammed against the wall.

Spinning around, Chris looked at Brad, who was clutching his chest like he was going to have a heart attack as Wesker, Enrico, Edward, and Forest strode into the office, excited looks gracing all of their features.

"Lunch time is over early today. We have a mission," Wesker stated.

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**XX**

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An illegal drug ring.

Two years ago, the Raccoon police department had started to crack down on the drug crime scene that had begun to grow precedence in the city, concerning a large number of citizens who felt that the introduction of dangerous drugs would heavily damage their society as they knew it. Of course, after pressures from political parties, cooperations such as Umbrella, and outside social groups, the RPD went into overdrive in their fight against illegal drug production and trafficking.

But after the intense crackdown, the drug deals and production had gone even further underground, complicating the process of tracking down men and women who, for the most part, stayed deep in the shadows. The general population of Raccoon felt that the 'threat' was over- what one could not see was not a threat, right?

Fortunately, Umbrella Cooperation continued to fund the RPD in their drug crackdown, condoning the entire business of illegal drug trafficking publicly in numerous press conferences and PR campaigns. So while the general public felt that the threat was generally gone, the men and women in the police force continued to fight.

And for the past few weeks information had been obtained in regards to a group of criminals who had been selling illegal drugs in the underground market, targeting raving parties and clubs in the downtown area of Raccoon City. The operation had been going on for months, but a sudden break in the case allowed for a proper raid to be carried out on the location.

Rumour had it that the regular police force was to be sent in alone without the help of STARS, but Wesker had insisted that Irons send in his unit- causing strife between the two men. Ultimately, though, Wesker's persuasion won out and in return the STARS unit could actually go in and _do_ something.

They were going to have another police unit back them up as they apprehended the men, giving the team a feeling of security. Although they were all highly trained men in their field of expertise, they still hadn't worked collectively on a real mission and the trust they all needed to build would take a while. And so, while the separate police unit secured the area and surrounded the house, Alpha and Bravo would infiltrate the house, apprehend the criminals, and give themselves a pat on the back.

It was relatively low-risk, but it was a mission and that was all the team wanted after months of doing very little. Besides, Chris was more than willing to arrest criminals who knowingly infected innocent youth with their poisonous drugs.

"About fucking time we did something," Chris mumbled as he slid on a pair of tactical gloves. Forest snorted in agreement as his fellow member fiddled with his gun holster. "Now maybe I can feel proud about wearing this STARS patch on my shirt."

"Think someone will get shot?" Brad asked, causing the entire unit to look at him, eyes narrowed. "W-what, I'm just asking!"

"I doubt anyone will be shot, Brad," Edward said as they left the locker room and headed towards the parking lot of the building, excitement radiating off of all of them.

Truth be told, everyone was wondering why the hell Brad was even hired. The guy was a chicken shit.

When they arrived at the parking lot, Chris saw the police officers who would be accompanying them standing by a few parked vans, and couldn't help but smile as he saw Peter standing with a few of them, chatting away animatedly to his fellow teammates.

"You know him?" Forest asked, noticing Chris' gaze. Nodding his head, Chris turned to look at Forest as they headed towards their own vehicles.

"Yeah, I used to patrol with him- he's a really great guy so I figure we'll be in good hands." Winking, Chris turned his attention away from Forest and found himself looking at Wesker, who was glaring at all of them.

"I told you all to be down here in five minutes, and you've been gone for seven minutes," he stated, arms crossed over his chest.

"Uh… I don't think two minutes makes a difference; the rest of the police members aren't even ready to go yet," Edward said, causing Wesker to snap his attention to the sniper like a predator to its prey. Chris was forever grateful that he wasn't the one to open his mouth this time.

"Two minutes could mean the difference between a successful mission and someone's death, Dewey. Think about that the next time you waste two minutes."

"I think you're being a tad… dramatic…" Chris said, slowing down the last part from coming out, as if his brain was frantically trying to shut down his system so as to not antagonize his Captain. Something had to be said for Chris' tenacity- no matter how much he wanted Wesker, it would never get in his way of saying stupid shit to him.

Wesker cocked his head to the side and inspected Chris for a moment, reminding the marksman of the velociraptors in that Jurassic Park movie Claire loved to watch. Chris was bracing for some sort of outburst, maybe even some physical violence, but was surprised when Wesker simply relaxed and turned around to speak with one of the police officers while all of the men in STARS slowly turned to look at Chris.

"Dude… you must have balls of steel," Brad murmured while Enrico began to give them the 'pep talk' that Wesker surely would not have given them.

"You're all going to do fine- just remember your training, remember the plan, and most of all keep your common sense about you," Marini explained, locking eyes with all of them before letting his gaze linger on Brad. "Understand?"

"Yes, sir," they said in unison, all of them ready to just leave and do their first mission as STARS members.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

The house looked like a regular house from the outside. Situated in a suburban neighbourhood, the relatively new home had a sharply cut lawn, green and trimmed bushes, a new coat of paint on the drab wooden siding, and it even had a little gnome sitting by the door. By all appearances, the house didn't seem to be intimidating at all; it actually looked inviting.

But inside was a different story.

Rather than cosy furniture and the smell of baking cookies, there were metal chairs and rows of tables sitting in the living room, files and documents littering the tops of them. There were no posters, pictures, or anything on the walls other than a clock, ticking away the seconds, minutes, and hours of every day.

"Where are they?" Chris asked, more to himself than to anyone else. Guns raised, Alpha team had taken the front door while Bravo took the back- all of them on high alert. They had expected to see the men and woman on the main floor of the bungalow, but were met with empty chairs and discarded documents.

"Don't let your guard down… I believe they've scuttled into the basement like rats," Wesker replied, eyes darting to the slightly ajar door in the kitchen. Signalling for Barry and Chris to cover either side of the door, Wesker approached it carefully while Bravo team covered the back. Brad was putting on a brave face, but was currently hanging back as far as he could.

Opening the door slowly, a small creak broke the tense silence as Wesker looked down the steep cement stairs, gun at the ready. Beginning down the stairs slowly, Chris, Barry, and Forest followed while the rest of the team stayed upstairs, guarding the basement door.

As the men continued down the stairs, light appeared at the end through a crack in another door, blocking the passage to what was supposed to be the main base of operation. Looking at his men, Wesker noticed their slight nods, reassuring him that they were ready for this.

Taking a deep breath, Chris braced himself as Wesker opened the door, flooding them in light as they barrelled forward, guns pointing at the three men in the room.

"Freeze!" shouted Wesker as the men sprinted upwards from their seats, panic evident on their faces. A flurry of movement took place and Chris froze himself when he saw one of the men frantically waving a gun of his own around before pointing it directly at Forest.

"D-don't tell us what to fucking do!" the man yelled, voice wavering as his partners backed up, hands high in the air.

"You sure you want to do that, buddy?" Barry asked as Chris scanned the room quickly, noticing medicine bottles piled up in corners with an assortment of pills in different containers sitting in metal bookshelves. They looked more like… pharmaceutical drugs?

"We've got four men here pointing our guns at you, and you've got one gun and two friends who are being intelligent and are surrendering," Barry continued, his voice calm and collected as he aimed at the frantic individual.

"Y-yeah, and you don't think I know what'll h-happen if I give in? God, I am not about to let my work go to waste b-because of you fucking pigs!"

"Now… think rationally. Firing at one of us is only going to cause further damage… you don't want that, right?"

The man seemed to hesitate slightly, the gun in his hand going lax for a moment. "I-I don't want to hurt you guys… b-but you don't understand!"

"We understand very well," Wesker spoke up, causing the man to quickly snap his attention to the blonde male. Suddenly his gun was no longer pointed at Forest, but was aimed strait at Wesker.

"I… I know who you are," the man whispered, eyes wide.

Chris didn't know who took the first shot, but he heard two go off loud and clear. A moment passed before the criminal collapsed, followed shortly by Wesker. Barry and Forest rushed towards the drug traffickers while Chris awkwardly swung his arm out to catch Wesker, who was grabbing his arm, face pale and skin stretched tight over his features.

Wesker was shot… he was shot and he was going down.

Shot.

_Wesker_.

Chris felt like something was going to break inside him. But he had to keep it together, otherwise… no, best not to think about such things.

"Officer and suspect are down- I repeat officer and suspect are down," Forest called through his radio. Commotion could be heard upstairs as police rushed the building, footsteps raining down upon them from above.

Meanwhile, Wesker's back was resting against Chris' chest as the younger man awkwardly supported the wounded man, the two of them sliding to the ground with Chris slowing the momentum so they wouldn't hit the cement floor with great force. Awkwardly grabbing at the fabric around his blood soaked arm, Wesker let out a painful hiss as he tried to rip the garment.

"I need to see… the… damage," he panted out as Chris gently pushed his hand aside and ripped the sleeve of the damaged shirt away to see blood sliding down porcelain skin.

Letting out a relieved sigh, Chris awkwardly reached into his own vest with one hand to pull out some gauze while his other arm stayed wrapped around Wesker's waist, holding up the almost completely passed out man.

"W-why are you… so… relieved, Redfield?" Wesker growled out, causing Chris to hold back a shaky laugh.

"It's a graze- the bullet just grazed your arm…" Chris said, relief washing through his system as he pressed the gauze against the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding, while the sound of ambulance sirens shot through the air and carried to the basement. Chris didn't even realize men were crowded around in the basement and were arresting the two standing individuals while the rest, including Barry, were sorting out the wounded mad man who had been hit in the shoulder.

"Y-you're going to be fine… a little bullet graze isn't going to kill you," Chris said, frowning as the blood soaked through the gauze. Wesker let out a soft moan as Chris removed his sunglasses and slipped them in his own pocket.

"D-doesn't take away… from it hurting… like a son-of-a-bitch," Wesker bit out, causing Chris to raise his eyebrows. He had never heard Wesker swear before…

Snapping out of his daze, Chris looked up to see the medics had arrived and were currently trying to shoo him away from his Captain. Gently resting Wesker back on the floor with the help of an EMT, Chris stood up and watched as Wesker stared at the ceiling, answering the questions the medics had for him softly, trying not to pass out from the pain.

Tearing himself away, Chris suddenly desperately needed fresh air and rushed upstairs and out of the house, immediately taking in a deep breath of the clean, pure air. He shakily went to run a hand through his hair before noticing his hand was covered in blood.

"You okay?" Barry asked, coming up from behind Chris. Spinning around, Chris lowered his hand and clenched his fist tightly. Barry stood there, hands also covered in blood and face pale.

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Wesker was only grazed in the arm… he'll be okay, I think," Chris said, watching Barry take a few steady breaths. "Are you okay?"

"In better shape than the man I shot."

"You were the one who took the shot?!"

Barry nodded, looking past Chris. "I could have killed someone tonight…"

"But you didn't. Just got his shoulder, right? A-and he shot at a cop, so it was in self defence, or more like you were protecting a partner," Chris supplied, worried about seeing Barry, Mr. Stable, so shaken up.

Barry didn't say anything as the two men stood on the lawn, hands soaked in blood for completely different reasons. The lights from different emergency vehicles illuminated the night sky, waking all of them to the reality of the situation.

* * *

_Oh yeah, I shot Wesker- WHAT ARE YAH GONNA DO ABOUT IT?! Anyways, as you can see Mr. Fancy Face will be fine, and his 'little' accident will open the doors for some... uh... good stuff? I can't say more than that. Also, Wesker is Mr. Fancy Face to me because he's got an artistorcratic face, therefore it's fancy. Thanks for the reviews/reads/watches/favorites/etc. you guys are all positivley delightful to me, and I have to thank you all for being hella amazing!  
_


	10. Compassion

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom & Michael Crichton do._

_Warning: None  
_

**Authors Note: **Once again, I gotta thank you all for being so awesome! The story now has over 100 reviews and it's all thanks to you guys! Plus, it has even more people reading it on a regular basis, so again, thats all thanks to you guys! I love you all! Anyways, not much to say about this chapter, but it's an important one and I hope you enjoy! Also, major props to MissPumpkinHead who corrected this even thought she's sick! Let's all hope she feels better soon!

**

* * *

Chapter 10- Compassion**

_Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for the truth. _~Benjamin Disraeli~

Chris didn't get home until late that night, questions and security procedures being carried through late into the evening. Both Wesker and the suspect were taken to the hospital, and last Chris heard the young man who had been shot in the shoulder was taken into surgery.

There was no real news in regards to Wesker's condition.

Taking Barry home when they were free to go, the red haired man was silent the entire trip, mind deep in thought as Chris let him have his moment. It was strange to see Barry so silent and brooding, his voice and conduct unsure. Chris understood his current condition but it didn't make things any easier. A quick goodbye was said between the two outside Barry's house, and Chris watched Barry trudge up the sidewalk to his silent home, a lone light on in one of the top rooms in the house.

Silence reigned supreme that night.

When Chris arrived at his apartment he went to take a quick shower and then go to sleep, fully intent on forgetting about the evening for at least a few hours. While undressing he noticed a bulge in his vest pocket and pulled out Wesker's dark tinted sunglasses. He didn't know why he had taken the glasses in the first place. Maybe it was because he didn't want them to get lost- no doubt the medics would have removed them and possibly misplaced them. For some reason, Chris didn't want them to be damaged or lost in any way. Gently holding them, Chris looked over the expensive frames before placing them carefully on the bathroom counter, watching the light reflect off of the lenses.

Wesker could have died tonight, all because of a stupid drug deal. The entire idea pissed Chris off, adding to his already tainted mood. For a moment in there he had thought Wesker was dead- that a simple shot from some paranoid freak would take him out just like that. But it was a graze… only a graze.

Wesker was one lucky son of a bitch.

After a quick shower, Chris crawled into his bed and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, exhaustion overcoming after all of the adrenaline from before had run its course.

He didn't remember dreaming that night, but when he woke up from the ringing of his phone Chris felt like he hadn't slept a wink. It more felt like he had just fallen asleep mere moments ago instead of seven hours like his alarm was telling him.

Lying in bed for a few moments, Chris listened to the phone ring and ring, the sound filling the tiny apartment as he waited for it to stop.

It didn't.

Letting out a long sigh, Chris dragged himself out of bed and stumbled into his living room where he snatched the phone out of its cradle, a sour face accompanying the action.

"Hello, Chris Redfield speaking."

"Christopher. Good, I thought I had the wrong number."

Chris held back a gasp, and instead clutched the phone tightly against his ear. He hadn't expected to hear his Captain on the other line "Wesker… are you out of the hospital?"

"No, that is why I called you. They're letting me go, only under duress of course, but I was wondering if you could come and pick me up from the hospital." Wesker sounded tired and irritated, and Chris could only imagine what he looked like at the moment.

"Yeah, I'll be right there," Chris said before hanging up when he heard the line go dead. Putting the phone down gently, Chris looked outside his apartment window to see the sun sitting low in the early morning sky. He was a little shocked Wesker had called him, of all people, to pick him up.

He also couldn't get rid of that 'fuzzy' feeling in his chest with the idea of Wesker trusting him enough to have him pick him up, making Chris blush and then proceed to hit his head a few times against the doorframe.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Walking into the waiting room of the Raccoon Hospital, Chris saw Wesker sitting in one of the plastic chairs, his posture ridged and stiff as his right arm rested in a blue hospital sling, a white paper bag sitting in his lap.

Chris had never felt more relieved to see someone than right at that moment. Hospitals had bad memories for Chris- mostly ones that ended with dead loved ones.

_Bright lights, the calm and cold tone of a doctor, a simple sentence that would change his and Claire's lives._

"_I'm sorry, but we were unable to save your mother and father… they passed away despite our best efforts."_

"Hey…" Chris mumbled, snapping Wesker's attention from the screaming child across from him. Chris immediately saw the bags under his superior's eyes and the tension across his mouth. "How are you feeling?"

"I am fine, thank you for asking," Wesker said. Grabbing the bag with his left hand, he stood up and strode towards the door with Chris following behind like _he_ was the one getting picked up.

"I called into the office and have scheduled for all of you to take the next three days off from work and we shall all meet again on Monday. I also contacted Irons and was updated as to the conditions of the suspects- the one individual who… who shot me came out of surgery and is recovering. We cannot get any information from him just yet, so in the meantime I expect you to finish your reports and hand them in on Monday," Wesker said as they walked to Chris' Jeep.

"Did you get any rest last night or this morning?" Chris asked, worried about Wesker's condition.

"I… I slept for a moment," Wesker simply stated as they came to the car. Unlocking it, Chris opened the door for Wesker to get in, who immediately gave him a look but got in anyways.

Slamming the door closed, Chris got in himself and watched as Wesker wrestled with the seatbelt. A moment passed before Wesker finished the job and sat looking strait ahead as Chris slowly turned the car on.

"What's in the bag?" Chris asked after he had pulled out of the parking lot.

"Antibiotics."

"Any ones that can get you high?"

"I… don't believe so," Wesker replied slowly, looking over at Chris before he began to shuffle through the bag.

"So you're going to have to give me directions to your house," Chris said, waiting at a set of red lights.

"I want you to take me to the RPD. I don't have time to go home," Wesker mumbled, pulling out a bottle to inspect the instructions written on the side.

"Oh no, you are going home and getting some rest. Look at you, you're still wearing the shirt you got shot in and it's covered in blood!" Chris said, shaking his head as the light turned green.

"Are you refusing my request?" Wesker asked, dropping the bottle back into the bag.

"Yeah, I am, because it's fucking stupid. Now tell me where your house is."

"No, take me to the RPD." Wesker's voice went dangerously low, but it didn't faze Chris. Instead the young man let out a frustrated sound and pulled the car over violently, driving into the parking lot of a diner.

"I'm taking you home. Now tell me where you live," Chris said, putting the car in park before he turned to look at Wesker. Wesker met his gaze and stared back before looking away.

"I took your sunglasses and I'll give them back to you if you tell me your address," Chris said, pulling the pair out of his jacket pocket. Wesker's attention immediately snapped to the sunglasses, eyes flashing. A moment passed before Wesker sighed and snatched them out of Chris' hands.

"I live on Park Street in the South West," Wesker said, putting the dark pair back on.

Chris nodded and took the car out of park and pulled out to begin the slow drive to Wesker's house, a little pleased with himself. Finally, he had _won_ something against the stoic male.

A long silence stretched between the two as they drove before Chris spoke up, wondering if he should say what he was about to say or not. "I think you should wear your sunglasses less… I like your eyes."

That sounded less suave than he had anticipated, and he blushed even as he said it.

Wesker didn't say anything for a moment, and Chris glanced over at the man, who was smirking slightly.

"I appreciate the compliment, Christopher," he replied.

"No problem."

Again, silence.

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Thank you, I am as well."

Silence.

"Does your arm hurt?"

"It is numb at the moment due to the pain killers. I am sure I will feel slight discomfort later."

Silence… again.

The rest of the ride was taken in silence, with Chris occasionally speaking up to ask for directions or to further embarrass himself before they finally arrived at the apartment building Wesker resided in.

Stopping outside on the street, Chris turned the car off and got out to go and open the door for Wesker.

"I could open the door, you do realize this," Wesker stated, getting out before slamming the door closed.

"I know, but it'll hurt less this way," Chris supplied, walking with the blonde man to the apartment door. Wesker fumbled with his bag and keys as they stood at the door, ultimately making Chris grab the bag in order to speed up the process.

"Well thank you, Chris. I owe you for both picking me up as well as assisting me when I was injured last night," Wesker said, trying to take the bag back from Chris, who had moved away.

"Nope, not getting rid of me just yet. I still need to make sure you go and get some rest and not run immediately to the RPD."

Wesker growled and ripped the door open violently before storming into the lobby of the apartment. He seemed to wince slightly at the sudden movement, but brushed the pain away and strode to the elevators with Chris following behind, excited to see Wesker's apartment.

Stepping into the elevator, the two men stood apart in the tiny compartment, anger radiating off of one of them while the other stood relaxed and composed. Riding to the fifth floor, the doors opened with a soft chime and Wesker stepped out and hurried to the door of his home.

"I thought asking you to pick me up would not have such consequences," Wesker mumbled as he opened the door and stepped inside, Chris following behind slowly.

Black, whites, and greys were the main colours in the apartment. Sleek, black leather furniture sat in the living room with a glass coffee table in the middle. A TV sat in the corner, but it looked like it was never used. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with numerous texts on history, biology, chemistry, and biophysics. A black granite countertop separated the kitchen and the living room, and off to the side was a white washed hallway which led to what Chris supposed was the bedroom and bathroom.

The most noticeable feature about the apartment though, was the lack of personality. No photos, no little nick knacks, nothing out of place…

"Nice place," Chris said, sliding his shoes off at the entryway. Wesker grunted in response and snagged the bag out of Chris' hand while tossing his keys in a little dish by the door.

"It suits my needs," Wesker mumbled, going into the kitchen. Opening the silver refrigerator, Wesker took out a pitcher of water and went to grab a glass, ignoring Chris, who had wandered over to the windows and was looking outside at the view which overlooked a park.

"You can leave me now, I'm safe and I promise I will not leave," Wesker stated, finishing his glass of water. He was going to go put the pitcher away before his vision wavered, exhaustion and blood loss finally getting to him.

Chris turned around just in time to see the glass pitcher fall to the ground, breaking into large, jagged chunks. Wesker tried to steady himself on a counter, ultimately leading to his injured arm wrenching to the side awkwardly in his failed attempt.

"Fuck!" Wesker cursed as Chris rushed into the kitchen to help steady the man while avoiding the glass.

"Yeah, real safe," Chris mumbled, watching Wesker bite back another yelp. As soon as Wesker has stopped wobbling, Chris helped the man out of the kitchen and into the living room before Wesker ripped himself away.

"I really do not need your help," he growled out as he shuffled to the bedroom.

"Yeah, and why is that, huh? Why are you so damn unwilling to let someone show a little compassion?" Chris asked, following Wesker into the bedroom.

"Because I am embarrassed," Wesker spat out, turning around quickly. "Because the very first mission that we had, I was shot by an idiotic… snivelling… lowly little cretin."

Chris was taken by surprise and didn't say anything, shocked by how much emotion the usually stoic man was displaying. A moment of tense silence passed before Wesker turned back around and sat down heavily on his bed. Chris watched him take his sunglasses off and toss them onto his bedside table before he began to wrestle with his shirt, awkwardly trying to unbutton the ruined garment.

"What are you doing?" Chris whispered, going to stand closer to Wesker. Rolling his eyes, Wesker looked away and stared at the wall.

"I would like to take a nap. I almost passed out in the kitchen if you hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, I did..." Chris said, annoyance evident in his voice. Pushing aside any emotions that might interfere, Chris knelt down and started to unbutton Wesker's shirt, causing the man to stiffen.

"Just shut up and accept my help. I promise I won't tell anyone about this," Chris mumbled, trying not to think about the fact that he was taking Wesker's shirt off. An erection right now would _really_ complicate things.

After undoing all of the buttons, Chris moved up and helped Wesker take the sling off, noticing the bullet wound was wrapped tightly by white bandage, hiding the injury. Once the sling was off Chris helped Wesker slide the shirt off, exposing his pale, well defined chest to the now blushing male.

The entire time Wesker stayed silent, eyes staring off ahead as he grudgingly accepted the help from Chris. Once the shirt was off and discarded, Chris looked up and locked eyes with him.

"There… that wasn't so bad, right?" Chris asked, trying to make a little joke to ease the tension. Chris was kneeling between Wesker's legs as he stayed on the floor, hand gently touching the bandage wrapped around his arm. Sitting upright, he was at level with Wesker, who was looking him over curiously. A moment of silence passed, and Chris' eyes slid down to look at Wesker's thin lips before snapping back up to meet his gaze.

"I suppose it wasn't that bad," Wesker whispered, before another dizzy spell hit. Reaching out, Wesker closed his hand around Chris' shoulder and squeezed slightly as his eyes shut.

Chris let out a soft sigh as the strange moment between them passed, and held Wesker up as the dizziness crept through his system before slowly going away.

"You should have just kissed me."

"What?" Chris hissed out, disbelief in his voice.

"I said you should go home," Wesker stated, opening his eyes as he retracted his arm and moved to slowly lower himself down on his mattress, lying on top of his comforter. "I would like to sleep without you staring at me."

"Oh… yeah, of course." Standing up, Chris rubbed the back of his neck and looked Wesker over once more before he stumbled towards the door. "Uh… call me if you need anything. And if not… well I'll see you on Monday?"

Wesker hummed softly and waved Chris off, signalling he was really done with the restless puppy dog following him around. Stepping out and closing the door, Chris continued to the kitchen where he cleaned up the broken water pitcher before leaving the apartment, emotions a whirlwind.

"What the fuck just happened?" Chris mumbled to himself as he sat in his Jeep, hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"It seemed like it was an underground pharmacy ring than anything else," Chris said, smoke dangling from his fingers as Barry half-heartedly played a game on the pinball machine in the bar.

"Is that what the investigators are saying?" Barry asked, sighing as the ball fell through the hole for the third time and told him his game was over. Tearing his gaze away from the game, Barry moved with Chris to sit down at one of the tables.

"No, but I don't know… I took a look at some of the files, and unless a large number of old folks are using LSD…" Chris trailed off, letting the statement go unfinished.

Barry let out a soft chuckle, the first one Chris had heard all night. "It was strange what was going on… I didn't think much about it at the time, but you're right, it was mostly pills and prescriptions littering the place."

The two men sat in silence as they contemplated the evening yesterday and the strange 'drug ring' they had busted.

"So, the suspect… he's out of surgery and he's fine. Sore and not talking, but I hear he's fine," Chris supplied, trying to make Barry feel better about the shooting situation.

"That's good to hear. I was… well I was worried," Barry said, frowning as he looked at the tabletop. "Killing isn't something I think any of us would want to do, especially on our first mission."

"Hey… I know you're feeling bad about shooting the guy, but you did the right thing. You thought like a cop and not a regular civilian. You did your _job_, Barry," Chris said, getting Barry to look at him.

"Yeah, I know… it'll just take some time for me to get over it, but I will. The girls and I are going to the zoo tomorrow, so maybe some chimps will cheer me up."

Chris laughed softly and reached over to pat Barry on the shoulder. "You're a good guy, you know that?"

"Thanks, kid," Barry said, genuinely smiling this time.

"I had a lot of thank you's said to me today, but that's the first one I actually felt came from the heart," Chris said, thinking about Wesker's erratic behaviour today.

"What do you mean?" Barry asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Captain called me today early in the morning, asking to be picked up from the hospital. He thanked me a couple times when I helped him to his apartment and with other little things like getting to bed to take a nap… but it was more of a forced thanks, you know?"

"How is the Captain?" Barry asked, completely disregarding Chris' little rant.

"He's okay, on a lot of antibiotics and kind of out of it, but he's good. Embarrassed though… first mission and he got shot."

Barry nodded slightly before smiling softly. "He's starting to trust you a lot, Chris."

"Y-you think so?" Chris asked, the tips of his ears going pink. He thanked the bar for the low lighting.

"Yeah, he asked you to come and pick him up, and then told you about how he was _feeling_. That's certainly rare."

"I… I guess so," Chris replied, a small smile playing at his lips as he thought what Barry had said through.

Maybe Wesker was actually starting to _care_?

* * *

_Ya'll can just say it- I'm a bitch. Taking that perfect opportunity and then not going with it! But hey, you all know that it'll happen soon... but how soon is the question. Anyways, once again thanks for reading/reviewing/favoriting!_


	11. Reality

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: None_

**Authors Note:** I've had a few questions about how much it would hurt to get grazed by a bullet. I looked up info on it (and there is very little reliable information, sadly), but basically depending on how much skin is taken off, you've going to have stitches and be really sore for a few days. So some painkillers are needed to numb the area for a while, and while it's not extreme pain, it's pretty uncomfortable for a while. Anyone who's had stitches knows how annoying they can be! Granted I had mine on my lip when I busted it open... Anyways, I wanna thank all you guys for being amazing! Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter! I also wanna dedicate it to my wonderful beta, MissPumpkinHead who has stated how much she loves this chapter

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 11- Reality**

_There is a fine line between dreams and reality; it's up to you to draw it._ ~B. Quilliam~

Staring at the buttons on his phone, Chris was currently sitting on the floor under the wall charger, tapping it against his thigh every so often. Looking away from the numbers, Chris glanced down at the crumpled piece of paper sitting next to him with a number scribbled across it.

Sighing once more, Chris dialled the number and waited for what seemed like an eternity before someone answered.

"Hello?" An unfamiliar female voice carried through to Chris, airy and light like she had run to grab the phone.

"Uh… hi, is uh, Claire Redfield there?" Chris asked, scratching the back of his head. He really hoped he didn't get the wrong number from his Uncle.

"Oh yeah, just a sec!" Chris heard some crashing in the background and the yelling of his sister's name before some hurried whispers were exchanged and Claire could be heard.

"Hello?"

"Hey Claire, it's Chris… your absentee brother."

"Oh! Oh! Chris, I'm so happy you called!" Claire exclaimed, excitement blooming in her voice. "I didn't expect a call for a while, seeing as how I just moved and, well… you haven't called for a few months."

Chris closed his eyes and slouched forward, annoyed with himself for causing Claire to not depend on him to even make a phone call. "Sorry, things have been a little crazy around here. Been given actual missions to carry through, despite the fiasco two weeks ago… which I guess I didn't tell you about on account of never calling."

"Hey now, you don't need to make excuses, Chris. I understand," Claire said with no disappointment in her voice. "But there was a fiasco a few weeks ago? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Captain of my unit was grazed by a bullet, though. But we're all fine; it just shook the team up."

"Oh… that doesn't sound so fun. But as long as you're all right and finding things to fill the time! Last we talked you said you were getting bored."

"Ha, yeah… no more," Chris said, running a hand through his messy hair. It was true; the STARS unit was becoming increasingly popular when it came to serving during missions in Raccoon.

With the media highlighting the drug bust, the panic and hysteria surrounding drugs in the city once again rose, causing more and more busts to be made with the STARS unit at the head of the charge. At the same time, however, new cases in regards to anti-Umbrella situations also began to take a toll on the city, and in turn, a toll on the STARS unit.

Where there used to be no action to be found, suddenly a large influx in cases came pouring into the STARS office- stretching the team tight. But Chris was starting to get back into the crazy swing of things, the atmosphere reminding him a lot of his days in the Air Force, which brought an air of comfort and familiarity to him.

"It's actually getting a little stressful for all of us- we're getting stretched pretty tight."

"But you sound happy," Claire said, laughing softly. "You sound like you did when you were in the Air Force. I'm glad."

Chris smiled and leaned back against the wall, shifting slightly to stop his butt from going numb. "Yeah, and you sound pretty happy too! Started College, moved into a dorm…"

"Yup! Things are crazy here, but it's a good crazy. My dorm is really nice; all the girls who live here are really sweet and helpful to us freshmen. I'm most excited about my classes, though!"

Chris couldn't help but laugh softly, amused by how much of a dork his sister was. "Man, you're such a nerd, Claire."

"Hey now, I like my nerdy-ness, thank you very much," Claire said, trying to defend herself.

"Okay, as long as you're happy with it…"

"I am… anyways, you should probably hang up on me now. You sound tired, and I know it's getting late and you work early tomorrow, no doubt." Claire sounded like their mother, causing Chris to shake his head and let out a fake pitiful moan.

"Fine, fine, make me get some beauty rest," Chris said, ending his pitiful little moan with a long sigh.

"Yeah, you need all the beauty rest you can get, Chris," Claire responded, causing Chris to gasp on the other end.

"You're heartless, Claire… but I love you. Stay out of trouble, alright?" Chris said, voice becoming more serious.

"I will, you do the same… and next time… don't wait so long to call, okay?"

"Right, I won't. Promise… I'll talk to you _soon_." Pressing the off button, Chris awkwardly stood up and placed the phone back on its receiver, feeling a little bad. He'd have to work harder to keep in contact with his little sister.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Can I go home yet?"

Glancing up from his stack of papers, Wesker looked at Chris for a moment, his sunglasses discarded as he tried to get through stacks and stacks of reports. "Why?"

"Because it's ten o'clock, everyone else has left, and I'm exhausted. My eyes are burning, Captain," Chris moaned out, chin resting on his own stack of papers on his desk.

"Everyone else is home because they did not put off their paperwork until Friday, unlike you. Now stop complaining, Christopher. It's rather unbecoming."

"I'm almost done, though! Can't I finish the rest on Monday?"

"No."

"Fuck you," Chris said, although with little heart behind the words. Wesker looked up from his papers and eyed Chris a moment before turning his attention back down to the stack- now completely used to Chris' outbursts..

Going back to his work, Chris scribbled further notes, added dates, signed his name, and cussed out paperwork for another ten minutes before he found his eyes slowly closing, the need to sleep overcoming him.

He didn't know how long he had been dozing for, but he was awoken when Wesker tossed a foam ball at his head, making him shoot awake and bat his hands around in an attempt to fight off the now-phantom ball.

"W-what was that?" Chris asked, eyes wide as he looked at Wesker, who was standing up and putting his jacket on.

"A foam ball Brad used to toss around the room until it was lost under a desk. One of the cleaning ladies found it and placed it on my desk, and I find it to be a rather useful projectile. In any matter, get up and grab your jacket- we're going out."

"W-we're going… out?" Chris asked, numerous ideas flashing through his mind, the most prominent one being Wesker killing him in the back alley.

"Yes, it is Friday and you are clearly unable to work anymore, I do not wish to be stuck inside this drab office for another hour, and I believe I owe you for helping me a few weeks ago. Therefore, we are going out for a drink."

"Together?"

"Yes."

"Oh… okay," Chris mumbled, standing up to grab his jacket. Slipping it on, Chris followed Wesker out of the office, wondering exactly what was going on. He didn't want to say 'no' to Wesker, especially when there was a strong possibility that he wasn't going to be killed.

But all joking aside, Chris was a little excited to speak to Wesker alone and on a more personal level. Ever since the strange exchange of emotions a few weeks ago, Chris found himself even more confused in regards to his feelings about his Captain. Beforehand it had been a simple crush mixed with a longing to have something he knew he couldn't.

But what happened a few weeks ago sent Chris' emotions spiralling. For some reason, Chris figured that maybe if he could talk to Wesker for a bit he'd realize that he had no personal feelings towards him, and that what he had thought he felt weeks ago was simply the effects of the painkillers on the injured man's judgement.

No matter how much Chris wished Wesker wanted him back, a large part of him knew it was impossible- and he wanted the feelings he carried for the man to recede as soon as possible in order for him to get his life back on track. And the best way to do that would to be rejected.

Completely and utterly rejected.

"So, where are we going?" Chris asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets as the two men walked out of the police office and down one of the main rain-soaked streets. It had just finished raining in Raccoon City, coating the streets with a thin sheen of water, making it seem cleaner and brighter under the street lights' reflection. Smiling, Chris took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh smell of rain.

"To a small establishment I know a few blocks away. They have my favourite brand of scotch," Wesker replied, gently shoving his sunglasses further up on his nose.

"Figured you'd be a scotch man," Chris said, snatching glances at Wesker out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't wait to be over this silly crush. "I'm more of a beer guy myself."

"Mmm, I thought as much."

Turning a corner, Wesker stopped outside of a small brick building and opened the door, holding it open for Chris to enter.

"Oh, thanks," Chris mumbled, stepping into the dimly lit bar. Dark mahogany chairs sat beside equally dark tables in the small location, little candles lighting a small portion of the tables to those who wished to watch the light reflect off of their drinks. Against the wall sat the bar, expensive-looking display cases showing off equally expensive liquors and spirits.

A young woman stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses as an older gentleman sat on one of the stools, business jacket discarded as he relaxed before going home, no doubt to the family. Other than that, the rest of the occupants of the bar were hidden in the shadows, voices low and soft as they spoke to one another in seductive drawls.

Chris felt entirely out of place.

Stepping in after Chris, Wesker strode to the bar like he owned the place with Chris trailing behind, trying not to bump into the chairs and tables placed along the path. Sitting down on one of the stools beside his Captain, Chris rested his arms on the counter and looked at all of the bottles in the cabinets while the bartender approached them.

"I'll have the usual," Wesker supplied, making Chris raise an eyebrow. He figured Wesker was a regular patron, but he didn't think the man was regular enough to have a 'usual'. The woman nodded and looked at Chris expectantly.

"Uh… whatever's on tap, I guess," he said, sending the woman one of his winning smiles.

It didn't work too well. She simply nodded and went to prepare their drinks while Wesker pulled out a small notebook from his jacket pocket and began flipping through it. Watching Wesker for a bit, Chris let his eyes wander to the man's hands, watching one long finger slowly flip through the sheets as if to tease the young man before him.

"How's your arm feeling?" Chris asked after the bartender brought them their drinks. Placing his notebook back in his jacket pocket, Wesker took a small sip of his scotch before answering.

"Better, thank you. I am happy to no longer need the sling… although I wish something could be done about the scar." Frowning, Wesker unconsciously went to touch his arm softly before letting his hand drop to the bar's counter top.

"You don't like scars?" Chris asked, shifting his body so he could speak to Wesker easier.

"No, I find them unbecoming and far too reflective for my tastes. Most scars bring back unwanted memories, and I find being shot in the arm an unwanted memory," Wesker replied, turning his head slightly to look at Chris' new position.

"I have to say I disagree. I think scars can be beautiful, even if they warrant unwanted memories. They make us who we are, and the creation of someone is beautiful. It takes a million scars to make us who we are, and we should embrace every one of them." Shrugging, Chris took a sip of his beer as Wesker turned ever so slightly closer to Chris.

"That is rather true, I must admit… I never expected something so deep from you, Christopher," Wesker replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Just buy me a few more drinks and I'll be fucking Plato," Chris said, smiling before that sound hit him.

It was soft and quiet, an elegant purr to the beginning before it evened out with a low and mirthful tone.

Wesker was laughing.

It was an honest laugh, too. Not one that he sometimes faked when Barry told him a joke, or when he was being sarcastic about something. No, it was a genuine laugh that Chris had caused.

"I can only imagine what you would be like intoxicated," Wesker said, the laughter dying down, leaving him with a small smile.

Chris found himself wanting to make Wesker laugh again.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

The two men left the bar pleasantly buzzed as a slight drizzle began in the air. They hadn't had enough to get either of them drunk, but their senses were slightly dulled, making everything warmer and less harsh. Chris had forgotten about 'Operation Get Rejected', and simply enjoyed the evening for what it was.

Plus, he got free beer out of the deal.

"Do you need a ride home?" Wesker asked as the two men walked back to the Police Station where their cars were parked.

"Nah, I actually walked to work today and I figure I'll walk home," Chris said, running a hand through his hair.

"Are you sure, it's begun to rain again," Wesker stated, slipping his sunglasses off before pocketing them inside his jacket.

"I enjoy the rain, makes me feel alive. Besides, I find myself doing things I wouldn't normally do in order to try and break the monotony of life."

Stopping at the corner across from the police station, the two men waited for the signal light to turn to 'walk' as the rain continued to pattern down between them. Silence surrounded them as they waited, shoulders brushing gently.

"Sometimes I feel like I should break the monotony of life," Wesker softly said, turning slightly to look at Chris. Meeting his gaze, Chris cocked his head to the side and shrugged.

"Why don't you?"

"I think I might."

Chris felt a tug at the collar of his shirt, and the next thing he knew Wesker's lips were upon his.

Standing awkwardly, Chris' mind did a back flip and managed not to make a perfect landing. All he could think about was Wesker's lips against his, the smell of his cologne surrounding him, and the taste of scotch on the other's breath. Without really thinking, Chris opened his mouth slightly and kissed the bottom of Wesker's lip, one hand coming up to rest on his shoulder.

He was unsure of what to do and how to kiss another man- the reversal of roles throwing the usually dominant male for a loop as Wesker's tongue slid across the seam of his lips, gently demanding entrance. Complying, Chris let his mind wander far away as he opened his mouth to his superior. Wasting no time, Wesker's tongue slid into Chris' mouth, sweeping across the top of his mouth with expert ease before sliding against Chris' tongue, a small moan escaping.

The hand that had pulled Chris in had moved up to gently cup his cheek, making Chris hesitantly slide his other arm around Wesker's waist, his autumn coat blocking some of the movement but not blocking the intentions. Pressing against Chris, Wesker slid his tongue out of the man's mouth and ran it along his bottom lip before pulling away ever so slightly.

Letting out a small puff of air, Chris didn't open his eyes and moved to gently kiss Wesker again, and again, and one more time before Wesker nipped his bottom lip.

And suddenly reality and social norms reared their ugly head.

Wesker was his superior and his Captain, a man who his career depended on to be a strictly professional relationship.

He was still seeing Mindy, the beautiful and kind secretary who didn't deserve this type of thing- a cheating and lying man who hid his desires and yet acted them out upon her body.

His little sister was hoping for her brother to meet an honest and dependable young woman with whom he could start the Redfield name over again with- create a foundation in which his family, past and present, could be proud.

And finally, it was all supposed to be a _fantasy_ and not a solid and almost suffocating reality- a fantasy that until today Chris thought was untouchable and therefore safe to have. Because he knew that no matter how much he wanted it, he could never have it, he could never have _him_. And if he could never have him, he would never have to worry about the possible implications connected to him, the scorn and accusations, and the ultimate heartache that would come with a relationship with such a man- a man like Albert Wesker.

But reality had come crashing down with the simple and tender bite from an altogether complicated situation and an even more complicated man.

Pushing himself away, Chris opened his eyes and looked at Wesker, seeing confusion with a hint of annoyance in the other's eyes.

"Christopher…?" Wesker murmured, strands of his hair coming loose to drape across his beautiful grey eyes due to the rain, as if to tempt Chris back into the hold of a man whose very existence would come to mean so much pain.

"I'm… I'm sorry, I have to--" Chris didn't even finish what he was about to say and instead turned around to hurry home, the rain falling harder as Wesker stayed at the street corner, figure washed in the light from above as the cowardly man ran as far from his feelings as he could possibly get.

He was afraid… afraid of this sudden reality.

Reality was a bitch.

* * *

_So you got your kiss! Except it probably didn't end the way you wanted it to. I've noticed that a majority of slash/yaoi fanfictions let a character, who by all means is probably strait, suddenly accept the fact that they like another guy and that everyone around them is okay with that- because you know, all cities in America are a happy happy place for homosexuals. I want to show the confusion and panic that someone can feel when they're faced with a reality that, no, not everyone accepts this and that there are other expectations in life that could prevent them from being who they really are. As a strait woman (who lives in Canada where gay marriage has been legalized) I realize I will never know this, so I hope to show it as properly as I possibly can throughout the following chapters. _ANYWAYS, _thanks again for the reviews/favorites/watches. Totally appeciate it! _


	12. Simplify

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: None_

**Authors Note: **Wow you guys, thanks for all of the really positive reviews from the last chapter- I'm glad I was able to convey the emotions Chris was feeling at the time, it makes me know I've done my job as a writer. Thanks you guys! I'm happy you all agree that slash fanfiction tends to dismiss the confusion a lot of men probably go through during their realizations in regards to their sexuality. But I would just like to send a little message to **Elysia **as an explination as to why I wrote something (all ya'll can skip over this if you'd like). Firstly, you write VERY good English, so don't apologize for it or anything- you write it better than many native English speakers, and I totally appreciate the time you take to review my stories with such wonderful reviews. But the issue I wanted to try and 'defend' is about Chris' thoughts on Claire's reaction. I know it sounds irrational but my sister is a lesbian, and it took her mooonths of dating a wonderful young woman before she came out and told me- she said she was afraid and had no idea what I would say! And she knows very well my stance on homosexuality, and even knows what I write. So although she knew how I felt about the issue, she was still terrified of telling me. So that's where I was coming from when I wrote that- it's never as easy as you would think! But thanks so much for the awesome reviews- I hope one day you get an account so I can reply to them all with my gratitude!

**

* * *

Chapter 12**

_The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak. _~Hans Hofmann~

Lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, Chris found himself thinking… a lot.

After his rather embarrassing freak out and subsequent running away the previous night, Chris decided to stay home for the weekend and lie in bed with a four o'clock shadow accompanying him into his spiral into self-pity and fear.

Chris couldn't help but think about the kiss over and over again. How surprisingly soft Wesker's lips were, yet strong in their approach as he kissed Chris with little hesitancy and surprising skill. Chris liked how Wesker's tongue swept inside of his mouth, sliding across all of his little weak spots he wasn't even aware he had- as if Wesker was meant to be the only one to kiss him. It felt _right_ to Chris, to kiss him and be pulled in close. But that was partly what scared him- lust-filled feelings shouldn't include an overwhelmingly 'fuzzy' feeling. And Chris had taken so much solace in the fact that it was only _lust_ he was feeling towards Wesker; and to a certain extent it was still lust. He wanted Wesker sexually- he wanted him really bad. But after that kiss… well, Chris wanted more of those 'fuzzy' moments too.

And then there was the issue of being in a homosexual relationship with your _boss _in a country that wasn't entirely happy with the idea of two men coupling. To the American society of the day, a guy like Chris was supposed to be out thinking about settling down, finding a nice young woman with whom he could start a regular family with- one that his parents would be proud of if they were still alive to see him. Instead, he was thinking about entering a relationship with another man who he was supposed to have a _professional_ relationship with. Professional was the key word in all of that.

Letting your Captain slide his tongue down your throat wasn't exactly professional by any stretch of the imagination.

And the word 'relationship' kept running circles around in Chris' head as he stared at the plain white ceiling. Was that what Wesker was looking for last night, or had he simply taken more alcohol in than Chris had first thought and was looking for a drunken one-night stand with no strings attached?

And if Wesker had only wanted a drunken one-night stand, was Chris okay with that? Would he have been content with sleeping with his superior once- would his body be content?

But one of the most prevalent thoughts in his head at that moment was…

"Is Wesker gay?" he mumbled to himself as he slowly sat up, scratching the back of his head while he sat in rumbled bed sheets.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

The public library- a place for all of the answers to life's questions, or at least that's what Chris hoped it would be.

He didn't know where to begin to untangle himself from the mess he had gotten himself into, but figured he would at least leave his apartment once that weekend to try and clear his head. Wandering downtown, Chris eventually found himself inside the downtown Racoon City library, a place that was almost empty on a Sunday afternoon.

Wandering the stacks of books, Chris read the spines of numerous cook books before he came into a clearing where a few computer systems were set up, letting those who did not have the money for a computer of their own sit and check their emails and geocities accounts.

Pausing his wandering, Chris looked around for a moment before snagging a free computer- one with the screen to the wall and not the main hallway. Pulling up an internet browser, Chris tapped his fingers on the keyboard for some time before he finally typed in a search term.

'Homosexuality and lifestyles'

Watching the search slowly load, Chris looked all around him, suspicious that _someone_ was going to see what he was searching. This was a… delicate topic, and he didn't want anyone else knowing what he was going through- even if the only other guy at a computer was a homeless man who was no doubt seeking a warm place to hang out.

One of the first websites that popped up talked about homosexuality and the Bible, making Chris quickly click away- religion, the United States, and homosexuality all together did not make things any easier for him.

The second link was much more fruitful, and Chris found himself scrolling through a number of pages mostly detailing coming out stories. While not all of them had happy endings in regards to how family and friends took the news, many of them did and it eased Chris' worries a fraction.

If these guys could deal with it, he could too… right? Letting out a heavy sigh, Chris went to another website and looked at the side bar for any interesting articles.

'How to Come Out'  
'Nature or Nurture'  
'The Bible and You'  
'HIV and AIDS'  
'How to be Intimate with your Partner'

Stopping on the last link, Chris let the mouse icon hover over it. Glancing around a few times, Chris made sure no one was looking in his direction before he clicked the link, a blush already appearing on his cheeks.

There were subcategories under the link, with bold headings that made Chris feel like he was looking at his first Playboy magazine with his friends on the playground- the thought of anyone seeing it, even if there were no pictures, freaked Chris out.

But he just couldn't tear himself away.

The first one talked about anal sex, and Chris found himself scrolling through it quickly to get past it. He knew kind of how it worked, and he didn't really want to know more… well, not unless he got to try it with Wesker.

_Damn it_. Cringing, Chris pushed those thoughts aside and continued with his little adventure on the internet.

The next one was talking about mutual masturbation and blowjobs, piquing Chris' interest a little more than the other one. Reading a few lines here and there, Chris got the gist of it and figured it was like what you'd do with yourself… except he wasn't so sure about giving someone a blowjob. Sucking dick was pretty… gay.

Stopping at the 'Frot' section, not knowing what the term meant, Chris scrolled through the paragraph detailing the mechanics. He was quickly educated on what it was, and how it was relatively safe for those not wishing to transmit diseases. It was just rubbing your dick… against another guy's dick.

Letting out a small cough, Chris scrolled down faster and came into even crazier sexual territory before he clicked the back button multiple times.

So maybe looking at how to have sex with another guy wasn't the best idea if he wanted to calm himself down.

Now all he could think about was how he was pretty much going into virgin territory all over again- that if he did anything with Wesker (that was, if Wesker didn't kill him for what he did), he'd be an awkward virgin all over again- a faze Chris was thankful he had passed… but apparently he hadn't completely.

Closing the browser, Chris sat back in the chair and stared at the blue, practically empty desktop for a time, deep in thought.

It wasn't a complete bust- this searching thing. The coming out stories had eased some of Chris' fears. It wasn't like he was the only one who'd gone through this- there were plenty of men out there who had experienced much of the same thing and they were all okay.

That didn't mean Chris was going to suddenly tell everyone he was attracted to another guy, and it didn't mean he was gay… but that constricting feeling in his chest had begun to loosen a fraction, and Chris found himself able to breathe and think a little easier.

First, he had to confront Mindy- tell her what happened last night. He could deal with a lot of things, but he could not deal with being a cheater. So he had to tell her… and after that… well, he didn't know what he would do.

But Mindy was a good start. He'd tell her what happened, and then maybe see if they could move on?

But move on together or alone? That was still an unanswered question for Chris.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Walking over to their usual café, Chris went over what he was going to tell Mindy again and again in his head. Hands stuffed in his pockets, he gave off an uninviting vibe as he trudged down the street, doing his best to ignore the splitting headache behind his eyes that had begun to develop.

Finally reaching his destination, Chris threw open the door to the café and immediately spotted Mindy sitting at one of the booths, hands interlocked on top of the tabletop as she looked outside, watching dead leaves blow around on the sidewalk.

"H-hey…" Chris said, sitting down across from her. Shrugging off his jacket, Chris gave Mindy a shaky smile which was returned with a larger, more confident smile from her.

"Hi! I was wondering when you would show up- I thought maybe you'd stood me up," she said, a playful attitude to her voice.

"Y-yeah, sorry, I was out and then I had to go home to shave and… stuff." Chris rubbed the palms of his hands on his lap a few times, trying to work out the stiffness in his shoulders and the numbness in his legs from the cold walk. Mindy seemed to notice the awkwardness about him, and tilted her head to the side, eyebrows furrowing.

"Chris… is something the matter?" she asked.

It was now or never- tell her what happened- tell her you cheated on her with another man… do it.

"Yeah… I… I have something to tell you. Uh… t-the other day… Friday night, actually… I… well—" He almost had it out when the waitress suddenly appeared, a clean sheet in her hand and a pencil in the other.

"What can I get for you two?" the waitress asked, oblivious to what she had just interrupted.

"Oh, uh, I'll just have a garden salad," Mindy said, being courteous despite the worry evident in her eyes.

The waitress nodded and looked at Chris expectantly. "I'll have… uh, the same- a garden salad, please."

Chris figured that if he ate anything too filling he'd throw it up right away. God, the nerves were really beginning to eat away at him.

After the waitress left, Chris glanced over at Mindy before looking back down at the table. "A-anyways… as I was saying… Friday night I… I kissed another person."

There was silence for a time, and Chris finally tore his gaze away from the table to look at Mindy. She had a slight frown on her face, and the worry on her features refused to go away.

"Another person?" she whispered, keeping her eyes locked with Chris'.

"Yes… with another man, actually," Chris mumbled, amazed that he had managed to admit it- for a second his tongue felt thick and heavy, stuck to the roof of his mouth. He thought he'd never be able to tell her- that he'd be a coward when he had never backed down from anything.

Watching numerous emotions flash across her eyes in a matter of seconds, Chris began to get even more worried. Would she make a scene? Would she start to cry or would she walk out? What was she thinking?

"It was your Captain, wasn't it?" she finally said, voice wavering slightly.

Chris didn't know how to respond for a second, completely caught off guard by her question. How did she know? Was he really that obvious, and if so, did other people know? A lump formed in Chris' throat, and he simply nodded.

"I thought… well I thought something was going on between you too," she said, sighing softly. She didn't look very angry or upset, just… sad. "I mean, you'd always talk about him and you'd get this… happy look about you- even if you were talking about something he did to make you angry. And, well… I just thought something was different after you began working with him."

"I'm sorry, Mindy," Chris found himself saying as Mindy looked away. She simply shrugged, a hand going to play with a few strands of her hair near her shoulder.

"I never really had any claim to you in the first place- we were just friends with benefits, weren't we?" she said after a time, finally looking back at Chris.

"Yeah, but… I still… I still feel bad about it," he said, fiddling with his napkin. He was going crazy right now- wondering what she was thinking exactly.

"Well you should… but I forgive you. I mean… well, I have never had a guy cheat on me with another man, but I imagine you're going to go through a lot more than I am because of this. You don't need me being all angry while you're wondering about your sexuality… right?" She smiled this time, and although Chris could still see the hurt in her eyes, he could also see the support there too.

"Thank you, Mindy. God, I don't deserve to know you," he said, reaching across the table to take her hand in his. Squeezing gently, Chris let out a much needed breath of air and returned the smile.

"Just don't worry yourself too much, alright? A-and if you need to talk, you can come to me, alright? I don't know a lot about… you know… this sort of stuff, but if you want to just talk I'll be here."

"Thank you so much…" Chris said, and he really meant it. At least he knew he had Mindy's support.

Suddenly, things seemed a lot less scary.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

After saying goodbye to Mindy later that evening, Chris was able to sleep better than he had the past few weeks, a huge weight having been lifted off of his chest. But the next day would prove to be another obstacle in Chris' trek back to sanity as he had to face Wesker.

He planned on trying to talk to Wesker to see if he could clear the fog that had built up over the weekend after his little freak out. But Wesker hadn't shown up in the morning like the rest of them, and as Brad and Barry went off to finish certain tasks they had to do, Chris found himself waiting for the blonde male.

He didn't know what he would say to Wesker- didn't really know what to tell him. If Wesker was so used to homosexual relationships, maybe he'd understand why Chris had left- that he had panicked and just needed time to breathe?

But the more Chris thought about that, the more he realized it wasn't a very probable situation. Wesker wasn't one to understand others' feelings too well- but that wouldn't stop Chris from telling him how he felt and that maybe… maybe if Wesker was willing, he'd like to try it again.

Without him running away, this time.

And so Chris was standing outside their office, fiddling with his new STARS issued combat knife. Slapping the case against his palm, he leant against the sign on the wall, trying to appear casual but failing as he almost dropped the encased knife on his foot. He had been waiting for Wesker for little more than ten minutes when he was rewarded with the sight of the slender man trudging down the hallway, a stack of folders under his arms.

Shouldering himself off of the wall, Chris took a deep breath and watched Wesker approach. "Hey, Captain, I was wondering—" Chris began as Wesker threw the door open to the office and strode in, an eyebrow rising as the only indication he even heard Chris.

"I don't have time to talk, Christopher," Wesker said, placing the folders down on his desk. "As you can see, we have an influx in cases and I don't have the time or the patience."

Following Wesker into the office, Chris closed the door and looked at the stack before back up at Wesker. "It won't take long, I just—"

"No, I said I don't have the time," Wesker growled out, moving out from behind his desk to head back to the door, glancing at his watch quickly.

"Can't you just—" Chris began yet again, but was cut off when Wesker pushed Chris against the wall and slammed his hand on the wall beside Chris' head. Pushing himself close, Wesker stayed centimeters away from touching Chris, his intoxicating scent surrounding him. Hot breath washed over Chris' face as he stared back at his Captain, refusing to be intimidated.

"Can't you just what, Chris? Can't you just explain why you ran away like a confused teenager? Can't you just explain why you acted so rudely and childish? Can't you just explain your feelings and emotions?" Wesker hissed out, a mocking tone added to the end piece of his outburst.

Chris swallowed his anger and raised his chin slightly, trying to not let the proximity affect him. "I just wanted to explain to you _why_ I ran off, but if you're going to be such a bastard about it I guess it doesn't matter."

"You don't need to explain why," Wesker said, his jaw clenched tight. "You're confused about your sexuality and decided that you'd rather run away from your issues than face them."

Sliding his hand off of the wall, Wesker moved away from Chris and went to the door, ripping it open with more force than necessary. "I don't have time to play your teenage love games, so I suggest you figure things out before you drag me into it."

"Fuck you," Chris whispered as Wesker left the room, door slamming shut behind him. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Chris took a few steadying breaths before pushing himself off of the wall.

Later- he could try and confront the man again later. He wasn't one to back down from a fight.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

It was near the end of the day, and Barry, Brad, and Chris were all back in the office, finishing up the day's work when Wesker walked back into the office after being gone for the remainder of the day. Chris had been busy stewing in his own anger while going over what he was going to tell Wesker numerous times in his head, a certain amount of desperation mounting inside him.

He _had_ to get his feelings out to Wesker. Had to tell him that he wanted-

"I know this is short notice, and I realize I should have told you all earlier, but as we continue to face more and more situations that begin to overwhelm us, I began to feel that we needed more help," Wesker started, snapping Chris out of his musings to look up at him. "With more funding given to our unit, we were able to hire some more able bodies to join the team. And so, I would like to introduce to you all the newest member of the STARS Alpha team."

Stepping into the room, a petite brunette woman walked into the office and stopped beside Wesker, a hesitant smile gracing her lips.

"Hi, nice to meet you all- I'm Jill Valentine."

* * *

_Jill Valentine has entered the building! Maybe some of you were wondering when she would show up- well here she is! Excited? Also, do you all remember geocities- I just heard yahoo shut the servers down last year! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and the next one should be posted soon! Things are going to get even more interesting! Also, once again thank you for all of the reviews/watches/favorites- you're all so amazing!_


	13. Clarity

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: None_

**Authors Note: **I wasn't going to update this until tomorrow, but I went to a local convention (CCEE yay!) and I cosplayed as Jill Valentine from RE1 and had a blast- except my friends began to get annoyed when I constantly passed them my bags when someone wanted a photo! Although I had fun when people would walk by and mutter 'Staaaaaaars'. It also helps some official RE movie costumes were there, including Nemesis! _Anyways, _I digress. I am posting this today in order to move the story along one step further, because... well, you'll see why the story is going to get more intense from here on out! I shant tell you why though, you'll just have to read until the end!_  
_

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* * *

Chapter 13**

_Although our intellect always longs for clarity and certainty, our nature often finds uncertainty fascinating. _~Karl Von Clausewitz~

Jill Valentine.

A pretty name for a pretty girl- or at least that's what Chris thought. The rest of the STARS team seemed to agree though, with Forest already planning out the best way to woo the young woman in what he hoped would be a display of bravery and might in the next mission Bravo and Alpha team had together. So far though, Bravo and Alpha team hadn't had any missions together in the week Jill had joined, making the divide they tried to ignore between the two teams even more noticeable. But that was just the beginning...

When Jill joined Alpha team, Wesker later informed them of three new members who had joined Bravo team- Joseph Frost, Kenneth Sullivan, and Richard Aiken. A few eyebrows were raised in the Alpha team office when they were told of the new members, and one question was asked.

"_Why do they have so many more members now?" Barry asked after a short moment of silence. Jill stood awkwardly beside Wesker, eyes scanning the room before landing on Chris, who had all of his attention on Wesker._

_Wesker actually hesitated with his answer for a split second before replying, voice low. "Well, Alpha team requires… more skilled men and women. When interviewing new possibilities, Ms. Valentine was the only one who was suited for the demands Alpha team must meet on a regular basis."_

"_So you're saying Bravo team isn't as good as us?" Brad asked, leaning forward on his desk._

"_In simple terms, yes, I am saying that. But I will ask of all of you not to discuss that with anyone in Bravo team… is that understood?"_

_All of them nodded, but not without a bad feeling in all of their guts._

"They're really great guys… well at least the older guys. I haven't really had the time to talk to the new ones," Chris said, scratching the back of his head as he and Jill ventured down the hallway towards the snack machines.

Chris had been asked by Jill if he could show her around the RPD on a day when they had relatively little work to go through, but the only time they could work that into their schedules was after hours.

The past week had been incredibly busy for Chris and the rest of Alpha team, but it was especially busy for the newest member- Jill. She hadn't really been given time to settle in, what with Wesker giving the young woman her first mission only moments after she had unpacked the last item from her small cardboard box. She had been thrown strait into the proverbial lions' den.

It was an undercover mission, one that required Jill to visit a coffee house every night for the past week in hopes of having her be accepted into the group who ventured there as well. They called themselves 'The Antidisestablishmentarianism Punks'- or TAP for short. They had issues with 'the man', as Jill put it, and had on numerous occasions plotted against the government in Raccoon City and Umbrella, demanding a separation of government from big named cooperations like Umbrella (hence the term Antidisestablishmentarianism). Word on the underground street was they were recruiting new members to join and help with one of their 'biggest shows yet', which made everyone who was anyone in a high position in Raccoon incredibly nervous.

STARS had offered (or more like they were told) to go in and see if they could infiltrate TAP, and with new members who hadn't yet had the media spotlight shone on them, this was entirely possible.

So, for the past week Jill went to the coffee house dressed in hemp made sweaters and loose peasant skirts in an attempt to be invited in as one of the new recruits. From there, an entire bust could be made on the organization when the right amount of evidence against them could be collected, making STARS the heroes of the city once more.

Truth be told though, Chris was nervous about the entire thing. Jill had only just started, and although he didn't know her well yet, he still worried about her safety and ability. But Chris was always told not to judge someone by appearances, and although Jill was petite in build and soft in both speech and manners, he knew that there was a valid reason as to why Wesker had included her in Alpha team.

Besides, Chris felt a sort of connection with Jill already, like there would be a real friendship built between the two. A few months ago he probably would have already asked her out, but under the circumstances a friendship between the two would be more fruitful for the both of them- no need to add another pretty face to the mix in his already complicated love life. This, of course, didn't stop him from playfully flirting with the girl though.

"I only had the chance to speak to them briefly, but they seemed nice," Jill replied, brushing back a lock of brown hair from her eyes. "Not that that says anything about their abilities, of course."

"Guess we'll wait and see… still, I wish I could talk to them, you know? Things have just been so busy that it's hard to even go take a bathroom break. Whenever I go I'm almost expecting to find six new cases sitting on my desk when I return."

"Is it always this busy?" Jill asked as they passed the snack machines with Chris waving in its general direction, quickly noting that should she ever feel the need for some condensed sugar in chocolate bar form, this was the place to go.

"It didn't used to be this busy. When we first formed we had no cases for weeks, but then we had one case that blew open the door for the rest of them- although I'm always surprised by this seeing as how that first mission ended in Captain Wesker being shot." Rolling his eyes while he said Wesker's name, Chris shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned slightly.

He hadn't had time to say more than five words to Wesker over the course of the week, unable to find the time in both of their busy schedules to confront him like he had planned on Monday. Besides, Wesker was constantly out of the office, his paperwork even being neglected in favour of attending meetings and press conferences that the RPD and Umbrella insisted he take part in. Chris didn't understand why Wesker got so _strange_ when issues of Umbrella arose. He knew that the company was incredibly important to both the RPD and the city, and that the cases regarding Umbrella were top priority, but Wesker seemed increasingly agitated by the new anti-Umbrella cases that were occurring, and in turn he began to take it out on the team.

The other day Wesker had actually threatened bodily harm upon Brad, something they had all joked about happening but never actually believed would occur. Wesker usually reigned himself in, walking away from situations he believed would cause him to lose it. But when Brad ended up tripping over a cable that unplugged the important police radio device in the back of the room, Wesker lost it completely. He spent five minutes yelling at Brad for his incompetence and then proceeded to yell at the rest of the team, who was standing in the room doing 'nothing' at all when they could be out, as Wesker put it, 'saving idiotic people's lives'.

After that, all of the members, including Bravo team, avoided Wesker as much as possible in fear of incurring his wrath yet again. That still hadn't deterred Chris from his plan to confront the man when he had the chance though.

"I heard about that after I joined… sounded pretty serious," Jill said absentmindedly while looking around a corner as they went a different direction, trying to remember where that specific hallway went.

"It was just a graze, he's fine," Chris said quickly, wanting to change the subject. "So, here we are back in the main lobby of the station."

Walking over to the large statue, Jill looked up at the figure before inspecting a circular hole at the base. "Not that I mind, but why are there so many statues and paintings around here?"

"Dunno, Chief Irons apparently loves his artwork. The other day Mindy told me he recently acquired a real stuffed tiger."

"That's a little disgusting…" Jill mumbled, looking away from the strange hole and back at Chris. "Who's Mindy?"

"Oh, she's the Chief's secretary. You'll see her around sometimes, I'm sure," Chris said, smiling slightly as he thought about Mindy's new haircut that was meant to, as she put, attract a man as good-looking as Chris.

"Nice grin," Jill said, a playful smile on her lips. "I'm assuming she's your girlfriend?"

It was hard to get anything past a trained eye.

"Used to be… we broke up a week ago, actually. But, you know, it was more a friendship thing. We liked each other and all that, but some things came up…" Shrugging, Chris looked away for a second before loosely wrapping an arm around Jill's shoulder to steer her towards another set of double doors.

"How about we go to the public library and you can tell me all about yourself?" Chris said, letting go of Jill's shoulder once she was going in the right direction.

"I'm not that interesting, I swear."

"Oh come on now, you've got to have something really cool about yourself that you'd like to share," Chris said, walking down one of the many hallways in the RPD.

"I know how to unlock a door in record time with only a hair clip," Jill said, causing Chris to stop dead in his tracks.

"Really?"

Turning around, Jill stopped and looked at Chris who had an excited look on his face, almost like a child who was told they could open one gift under the Christmas tree early.

"Yeah, why are you so excited about this?" Jill asked, watching Chris take a few steps towards her.

"Because you can get into the mystery drawer, that's why!" Chris explained, turning around to head back to the STARS office. "Come on, no time to waste."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"You know, you really shouldn't sully her clean record so soon, Chris," Forest stated, trying to be the voice of reason in the current situation. Leaning against the top of Wesker's desk, Forest gazed down at Jill and Chris, who were currently huddled around the bottom drawer of their Captain's desk.

"I'm not sullying her record, Forest. I'm simple solving a mystery here with her help," Chris grumbled out, glaring up at Forest while Jill twirled a hair clip between her fingers.

"Are you sure you really want me to open this?" Jill asked, making Chris and Forest bring their attention back to her. "I mean… if he catches us, all the blame is being put on you. We're not watching out for your ass."

Forest let out a bark of laughter and nodded his head. "Damn strait we won't- and by the way, Jill, have I told you how much I like you?"

Chris rolled his eyes and moved his hand up to push Forest's face away as Jill began to work on the locked drawer.

"What's so important about this drawer anyways?" Forest asked as Jill continued to work on the lock, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Wesker never opens it when any of us are in the room, but I once walked in as he was closing it and he looked mighty irritated at me when I did. So he's got to have something really important locked away in here and I need to satisfy my curiosity, hence the opening of the drawer."

"Anyone ever told you curiosity killed the cat?"

The temperature in the room went down considerably, all three of them freezing as the slow British drawl carried to their ears. Slowly, Jill retracted her hand from the bottom drawer and stood up while Forest pushed himself off of the desk, turning around as well.

Chris stayed slouched down by the drawer, refusing to stand up, afraid of what he most likely would see.

"Christopher… would you please stand up?" Wesker said in a tone that could kill. Standing up slowly, Chris stepped back a few meters in an attempt to keep a safe distance from his Captain.

Wesker was standing near the door to the office, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows narrowed together as his jaw clenched and unclenched. Chris figured that even the presence of Jill and Forest wouldn't prevent him from killing him in cold blood right there.

"Come with me."

Swallowing the spit that had collected in his mouth, Chris nodded and silently followed his Captain out of the room with Jill and Forest looking on in complete shock. Jill looked distinctly pale, and Forest just stood there with his mouth hanging open, doing his best impersonation of a fish.

"Never thought I would see a guy walk to his death…" Chris heard Forest mumble just before the door was closed.

The RPD was eerily silent as Chris walked behind Wesker, mind blank as he watched the checker pattern floor pass by under his feet. The only real word that made any sense in Chris' head was 'fuck', and he repeated that word hundreds of times before they reached their final destination.

Chris hadn't even noticed that they were headed to the roof until Wesker had thrown open the old metal door, a large screech accompanying the action. Stepping through the door after Wesker, Chris closed it behind him before looking up from the handle to see Wesker leaning against the metal railing.

Looking out at the city, Wesker was silent for a while before he spoke up, making Chris' chest tighten with apprehension.

"I knew that you were rebellious, Christopher… I knew that and yet I still trusted you, despite your defiant behaviour. Never had I thought you would _betray_ me enough to try and pick your way into something you _knew_ was locked for a reason. Never did I think…"

His voice was calm and quiet, and that made things even worse for Chris. He could handle the menacing and malicious tones mixed with angry and venomous words, but he didn't know what to do when Wesker sounded so… tired and disappointed.

"I… I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking," Chris said, stepping forward a little to stand behind Wesker. He was close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off of the man, but kept far enough back that he wasn't touching him.

"Clearly you weren't," Wesker mumbled. "It seems you rarely think before you jump ahead and strait into action."

"Yeah, I tend to not think about a lot of things too deeply. I'm sorry though… really sorry. I just thought it would be funny, I didn't actually… well, you know, I didn't think about how you probably had it locked for a reason. I… I'm sorry." Chris figured no matter how many times he said he was sorry, Wesker would still be angry.

"You just had to drag Jill into this as well." Shaking his head, Wesker continued to stare off across the city, tension radiating off of him. "I hate having to scold you like you are some small child, Christopher."

"I know…"

Watching Wesker carefully, Chris stayed silent before speaking once again- hesitantly this time. "A-are you okay? You seem… more stressed than usual."

"Your little breaking and entering act helped very little… but yes, I am stressed at the moment. I had to meet the man who shot me, and it was not an enjoyable experience by far."

"Did you want to—"

"No, I would not like to talk about it... I would just like to relieve some stress."

Turning around slowly, Wesker looked at Chris carefully, his entire stance still stiff and guarded as Chris looked back. Shivering not completely from the cold autumn air, Chris watched Wesker remove his sunglasses so he could see the desire mixed with anger lingering in his eyes.

"I suggest that you do what I think you're going to do quickly before I dwell on this entire breaking and entering situation any more. I can almost guarantee that this is your last chance before I go through with my original plan to snap your neck."

Chris didn't need a written invitation and moved forward, roughly pulling Wesker the rest of the way to engage him in a searing kiss. Social norms and expectations be damned, Chris wanted Wesker.

The kiss was awkward and rough, both of them trying to dominate each other. Teeth clashed, tongues twisted together, while hands roughly grabbed and pulled. There was nothing soft or intimate about the display- it was simply a show of power and lust, an all consuming need overcoming both of the men. Chris could practically taste the still present anger, and tried to soothe the man with a quick swipe of his tongue along the top of Wesker's mouth.

A small puff of air was Chris' reward before Wesker forcefully pushed his tongue into Chris' mouth, completing the battle for dominance. Pressing himself flush against Wesker, Chris let the blonde man's tongue dance expertly across his own before sliding across his bottom lip- a flashback to last week's kiss.

But this time Chris was the one to gently bite Wesker's bottom lip, moaning softly as Wesker caught his upper lip in a kiss.

"You're not going to run away now, are you?" Wesker asked as they both opened their eyes, warm breath sliding over Chris' lips.

"No, I was going to tell you how much I wanted you the other day, but you refused to get off your high horse and let me," Chris mumbled, moving forward to kiss Wesker forcefully yet again. Chris had made his decision long ago, even before he fully knew he had.

He was done caring what anyone else thought, done worrying about the future and what it might entail. He wanted to just let go for once and not fret about what could happen and how it would affect _other_ people. He knew that he wouldn't be able to talk about this affair with anyone other than Mindy though. Wesker was still his boss, and although Chris was now comfortable with the idea of two men together, he knew that the majority of people weren't.

And so it would be a secret affair between the two men- one that only they would know and enjoy. The idea both excited and terrified Chris, but that didn't stop him from continuing forward with his plan.

Pulling away yet again, Chris let go of his tight hold on Wesker's shoulder, the fabric on his shirt staying crumpled and ruffled as Chris' hand slid downwards to the small of Wesker's back. Pushing forward, Chris moved his groin against Wesker's, feeling a growing hardness press against his own.

"Take me back to your place tonight..." he whispered.

* * *

_Oooooh, snap! You guys should all know what the next chapter is about! I will all let you in on a little secret about the next chapter... it involves sex. Lots of sex. Like.. pages of sex to make up for the lack of sex in all the other ones. That's right, all that waiting will soon pay off (I hope!). But, sadly, you're going to have to wait another week or so until you get the sex that I PROMISE you all! But I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though I'm sure a few were worried about how Jill was going to affect everything- turns out she's done Chris and Wesker a favour! Also, thanks (once again) for the reviews/favorites/watches! As I always say, you guys are amazing!_


	14. Passion

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Graphic Male/Male sex  
_

**Authors Note: **So it's 1:30 AM and I am terribly sick, waiting for my meds to kick in so I can get a good night sleep, and what do I decide to do? Update the story of course! Sorry this one came out a little later, but numerous circumstances occured that could not be avoided that prevented an earlier update. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the smut! Also, I would like to dedicate this chapter to my love, **Heart Massacre**, as she wrote me a lovely birthday present and I promised her the first sex chapter would be for her! Happy belated Birthday~!

_

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_

**Chapter 14- Passion**

_Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted... unbidden... it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us... passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments; the joy of love... the clarity of hatred... and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion maybe we'd know some kind of peace... but we would be hollow...empty rooms shuttered and dank. Without passion we'd be truly dead. _~Joss Whedon~

In the movies, the sex scene would always begin immediately after first heated kiss between the two parties. There would be a quick change of scene, most likely with them kissing upon a rooftop before falling onto a bed, half of their clothes in most cases discarded.

It spared the viewers who were watching from having to sit through the awkward transition from being in a public place to a more secluded and romantic area, an area in which those heightened sexual feelings could freely be expressed with none of the passion lost between the two parties.

Unfortunately for Chris, his life was not a movie, and he had to sit through that 'awkward transition' that movies tended to skip.

Sitting in the black leather passenger seat of Wesker's sleek, silver Mercedes, Chris found himself playing with the hem of his coat as he gazed out the window, street lights occasionally lighting up the interior of the car while it smoothly drove down the street. He tried not to think about what was going to happen as soon as they got out of the car and up to Wesker's apartment, otherwise the nerves inside his stomach would have surely gotten the better of him.

But it was hard to stop thinking about the fact that he was going to go have _sex_ with another man- Wesker no less. He had lost his virginity when he was seventeen and figured that strange 'first time' thing was in the past, but apparently not. He could still taste Wesker on his lips, and while he hungered for more, another part of him was wondering if this was such a great idea.

Wesker wasn't helping the situation much either, with his silent and usual stoic behaviour beginning to make Chris antsy and hesitant.

An eternity seemed to pass before Wesker pulled into the underground parking lot of his apartment, stopping the vehicle in his personal spot. Turning off the car, the two men got out of it and Chris found himself following Wesker's lead to the elevator doors.

Pressing the button, Chris watched the light atop the doors signal which floor the elevator was on while the two men stood in silence, both of them looking up at the glowing numbers. A soft 'ding' signalled it had reached the basement and they entered together, one standing on the left while the other stood on the right.

Glancing over at Wesker, Chris let his eyes wander over the older male's features, noticing how relaxed and almost bored he seemed as the elevator lazily rose to the appropriate floor. Only it stopped at the lobby and the doors opened to reveal a mother and her young son who appeared to have just returned from grocery shopping, cheeks rosy pink from the cool air outside- the epitome of innocence in the child's eyes. Stepping close to Chris, Wesker let them in with a polite smile which was returned by the woman while she pressed the floor number button below Wesker's.

An awkward tension filled the air yet again, and Chris thought he would burst with anticipation before he felt Wesker's delicate fingers interlock with his own, squeezing gently. Wesker stared straight ahead while Chris looked down at their hands, a blush spreading across his face before he, too, concentrated on the door.

Hurrying out of the elevator when it reached their floor, the mother and son didn't look back as the door closed and the elevator continued on its journey to the floor above. With one last 'ding' the doors yet again opened and Wesker strode out, his hand leaving Chris', making Chris stuff his hand back in his jacket pocket, trying to ignore how nice it felt to hold Wesker's hand.

He already knew he was going to be fucked and there was no need to further feminise himself by enjoying hand holding.

The jingling of Wesker's keys sounded louder than usual as the two of them let all of their attention go to the simple set of silver and brass objects. Selecting the appropriate key, Wesker easily slid it into the lock, making Chris cough and quickly look away, the sexual tension mounting with every movement and seemingly innocent act Wesker performed.

Although the words innocent and Wesker never really went hand-in-hand.

The soft creak of the door pulled Chris' attention back to reality, and he followed Wesker into the dark apartment. Flipping a switch on the front hall, the accent lights in the kitchen turned on, creating enough light to see around the apartment. Taking off his shoes, Chris' movements were a little fuddled and shaky, his body responding to the nerves and excitement that had built up since his request on the roof.

Once he had removed his shoes, he shucked his jacket off and stood with the garment in his hands, unsure of where to put it. He was just about to ask Wesker when the man turned around and took it, fingers brushing against Chris'. Walking into the living room, Wesker placed his and Chris' jackets on the back of the couch, a strange sight to see in the otherwise immaculately clean apartment.

Turning back around, Wesker took Chris' arm in his hand and pulled him down the somewhat familiar hallway to the bedroom. The curtains were open, letting the city lights' soft glow permeate the darkness and making Wesker's blonde hair glow almost silver in the low cast light. Not bothering to turn any of the lights on, Wesker dragged Chris to the bed before letting go.

Staring down at the midnight black sheets, Chris looked at the slight raises in the comforter that were highlighted by the street lights, his mind going blank as he tried to move away from any negative thoughts. Running a shaky hand through his hair, Chris was about to turn around when he felt Wesker press himself against his back, a steady arm wrapping around his waist while spiderlike fingers splayed across his stomach.

Warm breath cascaded down his neck as a gentle bite was applied to the side, making Chris shiver and let out a soft moan. Moving back into Wesker's embrace, Chris closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, his own hand moving down and around to grasp Wesker's thigh, hand traveling upwards before he met his own side, blocking any further movement.

Pulling away slightly, Chris turned around in Wesker's arms and looked into his superior's eyes, the man's sunglasses having been previously placed on the bedside table while Chris had been staring at the sheets. His face was half hidden in shadows but his grey eyes pierced the darkness, locking onto his own deep blue with a ferocious lust that made Chris move forward to kiss him deeply.

All of the previous worries were lost as Chris let himself be consumed by the kiss, Wesker's tongue probing and sliding against all of his weak spots. He hadn't even noticed their new position on the bed until Wesker had moved from kissing him to his jaw and down to his throat. Staring up at the whitewashed ceiling, Chris felt Wesker's body press between his thighs- a strange but not unwelcome feeling. Running a hand through Wesker's hair, Chris titled his head to the side and groaned when Wesker nipped at the skin on his collar bone.

Sitting up, Wesker looked down at Chris and began to tug at the hem of his shirt, hair coming loose from its tight hold to fall in front of his eyes- a sight that Chris wanted to see more of.

Sitting up as well, Chris fumbled with the hem, his grasp loose as he let the garment slip a few times before getting a tight hold. Sliding it up and over his head, Wesker helped chuck it onto the floor before his hands were on Chris' bare chest, gliding over well-formed muscles and honey tanned skin. Still sitting up, Chris kissed Wesker as the older male let out an appreciative hum, obviously pleased.

The kiss became more heated and passionate as it continued on, and at some point in time between kisses and moans, Wesker's own shirt had been thrown to the floor, leaving Chris with a delicious sight. Breaking the now open-mouthed kiss, Chris slid his hands along Wesker's pecks, fascinated with the strength and power that lay beneath the skin and how his tanned, darker skin contrasted against Wesker's pale moonlight flesh. He had never touched a man like this before- so intimately and slowly- and he found himself enjoying that feeling of raw power above him, more so than the soft and round curves of a woman.

Pushing Chris back down against the mattress, Wesker began to grind against him, their erections pressing together but separated by layers of fabric. Gasping, Chris grasped Wesker's arm, thumb rubbing over the scar left from the bullet wound from a month ago. Continuing his slow, circular motions, Wesker bit down on Chris' shoulder as his movement sped up with Chris grinding upwards, meeting his thrusts perfectly.

He may be a novice when it came to sex with the same gender, but Chris wasn't about to let Wesker take complete control.

Moving his hands downwards, Chris grasped Wesker's ass, making the older male purr against Chris' ear, sending little electric currents through his body. Deciding he wanted Wesker's pants off, Chris slid his hands between their closely pressed bodies and began to work on the leather belt, movements fumbled and shaky before the clasp opened, allowing Chris to pull it off with a soft hiss as leather slid against fabric.

Shoving the belt off of the bed, Chris watched as Wesker sat up and casually unbuttoned his pants, sliding them down his slim and sharply angled hips, his black underwear barely holding in his growing erection. Moving out from between Chris' legs, Wesker sat on the edge of the bed to pull his pants down completely before dropping them beside Chris' shirt.

Clad in only his underwear, Wesker moved back to his original position and started to undo Chris' own belt, quickly unclasping it before making even faster work of his button and zipper. Sliding his pants down, Chris raised his ass slightly so Wesker could take them off completely.

Looking down at Chris, Wesker smirked as his hand slid across Chris' boxer clad erection, a low moan following the action. Biting his bottom lip, Chris looked down to see thin fingers spreading across his erection, his superior's palm making the fabric rub up and down his cock in a teasing manner.

It was hard to believe that only an hour or so ago Wesker was ready to kill Chris. Now it seemed like all of that anger had been replaced with lust, passion, and a desire to tease him.

Chris was about to beg before Wesker's hands strayed upwards and wrapped around the band of his boxers, tugging them down to completely expose him to the waiting man above.

Now Chris had nothing to hide from his Captain- his entire body bare and exposed. Legs spread, his cock hard and leaking pre-cum with his balls pressed close to his body, Chris let out a soft moan as Wesker gazed at every part of his waiting and aching body. He wished Wesker would say something- break the silence to tell him that his body was appreciated. Chris was confident- proud of his thick and long member- but for some reason he wanted Wesker's approval too. Looking up, Wesker's eyes locked with Chris', and the younger man sent him a defiant look, challenging him to do something.

Taking the challenge, Wesker fully removed Chris' boxers before he slid forward to gently bite down on one of Chris' nipples while his hand wrapped around his member, stroking it quickly and effectively.

Thrusting upwards into Wesker's hand, Chris let out a soft moan as his hand traveled up to cup the back of Wesker's head, fingers tangling themselves in golden strands. Moving up, Wesker left a trail of spit and eager bites along his chest and neck, stopping at his ear to suck on the lobe.

Hissing, Chris bit his bottom lip as Wesker's fingers teased his ball sac before gliding back up the main vane of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that had beaded up at the tip. Moving from his ear to his mouth, Wesker kissed Chris with an all consuming passion, his dominant persona coming out to show Chris just how much control he had over him right now.

Chris realized with perfect clarity that he was at the mercy of Wesker- and that idea didn't bother him as much as he thought it would.

Finally gaining some semblance of a coherent thought, Chris slid his hand down to tug at the back of Wesker's underwear before his hand slid down and under the band to run along the silky smooth skin on Wesker's buttocks. Sucking on Chris' tongue, Wesker continued to jerk Chris before sliding his hand away and up to his hip, small circular motions being applied to the soft skin with the pad of this thumb.

Sitting up, Wesker pushed Chris' hand out of his underpants and went to take them off himself. Chris watched with slight fascination as the base of Wesker's cock appeared, but moved his hands up to grasp his wrists, preventing him from continuing with the motion.

"I… I want to…" Chris whispered, his voice sounding loud and jarring after so much silence for so long. Slowly moving his hands away, Wesker placed his hands behind his back to brace himself as Chris moved to run his hand along his covered cock, feeling the warmth and hardness twitch under his touch. Licking his bottom lip, Chris moved his hand upwards and tugged the underwear down to the middle of Wesker's thighs, eyes watching the motion and the way the fabric clung to his skin. Wesker tugged them off the rest of the way as Chris watched, mind going elsewhere for a moment. It took him a moment to look up, but when he did he was met with Wesker's twitching and rock hard cock, darker in tone than the pale skin that stretched across the rest of his body.

Taking a deep breath, Chris shoved away his apprehension and grasped Wesker's arousal in his hand, moaning softly as the warmth spread across the palm of his hand. Gently thrusting forward, Wesker let out a soft huff and looked down at Chris, a hand coming forward to run through Chris' messy brown locks.

Gliding his hand up and down, Chris watched the colour contract between his hand and Wesker's cock with fascination, a smug grin appearing on his lips as Wesker let out another satisfied purr. Pulling his hand away, Chris tugged Wesker back down so their naked skin was flushed together.

Groaning, Chris shivered as they made contact and managed to roll Wesker over so they were both lying on their sides, hands sliding across a body that was so similar to his own.

He had reached the point of no return, and dear god did it ever feel good.

They kissed until they both ran out of breath, chests heaving as Wesker kept their groins pressed close together while Chris concentrated on the feeling of his thin, surprisingly tender fingers dancing across his skin, lulling him further into the notion of how this was a good idea- a positive one in fact. The only sound in the room was that of their heavy breathing and the occasional squeak of the mattress, their movements harsher than what would occur between a man and a woman.

Again, Chris found himself enjoying that difference.

Finding himself being pushed back against the mattress, Chris watched as Wesker sat up and went to rummage around in the drawer on the bedside table, body hovering above Chris'. Sliding a hand up Wesker's side, he smirked when he ran the pad of his thumb over Wesker's nipple, making the older man stiffen and flash him a dangerous look from behind the shadows that played across his refined features.

Growling softly, Wesker continued to shuffle before he pulled out what he was looking for. Squinting to see it, Chris noticed the long tube that held what he assumed was anal lube with a small package resting against it, no doubt a condom.

Questions about Wesker's usual sexual life made an appearance once more in Chris' mind, but he quickly batted them away. If Wesker regularly banged dudes then that meant he was in good hands… right?

Taking a deep breath, Chris spread his legs as Wesker moved to sit between them, the sound of the cap being flipped open resounded throughout the room, deeper in tone than it normally would be, almost as if the sound was being captured by the heavy air that blanketed the two men.

Looking between his legs, Chris watched Wesker's hands descend into an area he wasn't really used to having anyone go and found himself instinctively clenching before Wesker had even touched the area. Raising an eyebrow, Wesker looked away from his job and locked eyes with Chris, demanding entrance with his eyes alone.

"This is going to be easier if you—" Wesker began, voice low and heavy with sex.

"I know," Chris whispered, taking a deep breath before relaxing as much as he could given the circumstances. Jumping slightly when cold lube made contact with his hole, Chris heard Wesker let out a low rumble deep within his chest and Chris wanted to kick the guy in the face- it was easier to say it than do it!

But not one to give up, Chris slid down a little further to expose himself before Wesker grabbed his hand an shoved it over his dick.

"Touch yourself while I do this."

Chris grunted softly and hesitantly wrapped his hand around his own dick, the tips of his ears going pink. He was embarrassed about masturbating in front of a guy who was currently trying to jam his fingers up his ass- Chris' embarrassments were rarely very logical.

Sliding his hand up and down slowly, Chris concentrated on the feeling of his foreskin gliding across the tip of his cock while Wesker's finger slowly slid in, meeting little resistance. Letting out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding, Chris looked down to see Wesker's arm moving back and forth, his finger sliding in and out of Chris with an almost medical approach to it.

It didn't hurt at the moment, but it certainly felt... strange. A second finger was added, which in turn added slightly more resistance. Again, there was no real pain per say, but that strange feeling persisted.

But then the third finger was added, and Chris found his hand losing its previous steady rhythm as he bit down on his bottom lip, trying to prevent the very un-sexy yelp he was about to release.

Chris tried to concentrate on the fact that Wesker's long, gorgeous, delicate fingers were inside him to get past the discomfort he was feeling, and to a certain extent it helped. But what helped further was the uncharacteristic kindness Wesker was displaying throughout the entire process. He was going slowly and carefully, and would occasionally gently rub the inside of Chris' thigh, as if he was actually trying to soothe him.

But it still felt strange, and he was wondering if he was going to get any satisfaction from this before Wesker curved his finger and hit 'the spot'.

Moaning, Chris' head fell back against the pillow as his body reacted to the pleasure rushing through his system. It was as if a small electrical shock had run its course through his veins, lighting his nerves to every sensation and touch as Wesker gently stroked it a few more times. But as quickly as that pleasure had come it went away and with it Wesker's fingers.

Opening his eyes, which he hadn't even noticed he'd closed, Chris looked up to see Wesker ripping open the condom package before removing it. Chris' heart leapt up his throat as he came back to reality and realized that Wesker was going to be _inside_ him.

Never would have Chris thought that Wesker would ever be inside him, but despite still thinking Wesker was a complete dickhead, Chris was glad it was him who he would lose his anal virginity with- as cheesy as that sounded.

But that still didn't take away from the nerves that had decided to make one last appearance.

Sliding himself forward, Wesker grasped his cock and gently pressed it against Chris' opening, eyebrows furrowed in concentration while Chris chewed at his bottom lip, cock completely forgotten.

Glancing up, Wesker locked eyes with Chris once again before he pushed in, steady and careful as he did so. Chris held back a painful groan and instead brought his hand up, biting down hard on his knuckles while Wesker went in as far as he could.

Bracing his arms on either side of Chris' head, Wesker closed his eyes and dropped his head down, tension and restraint showing in the muscles of his arms and the corner of his lips. Chris let out a loud puff of air slowly as his hand dropped down onto the mattress. Trying not to move, Chris continued to breathe deeply and steady, his body shifting just a fraction to accommodate the foreign body that was residing inside him.

It hurt; it hurt quite a bit in fact. But Chris wouldn't let it show too much- he had too much pride to let Wesker see him in a weaker state. Besides, he could handle this, especially if Wesker found that fantastic spot inside him yet again.

Bringing a hand up to rest on Wesker's hip, Chris looked down to see Wesker's groin pressed against his ass before looking up at his face, nodding once to give him the go-ahead to move.

Sliding out, Wesker growled softly before sheathing himself in again. He repeated the process slowly before he began to speed up a fraction as Chris found himself grinding downwards, explosions of pain mixed with pleasure sparking him to do so.

Lowering himself down, Wesker moved to kiss Chris with slight difficulty as their bodies rocked back and forth, muscles pushing and straining together as they continued to speed up- ecstasy throwing them into a passionate frenzy. Teeth clashing and tongues darting, they continued to kiss before Wesker tore away and began to lick down the younger man's neck, teeth biting and sliding against pulled neck muscles.

Moaning loudly, Chris titled his head to the side and watched the muscles in Wesker's forearm strain, blue veins showing through his pale, perfect skin. The smell of Wesker's cologne mixed with the scent of sex permeated the air and invaded Chris' sense of smell, dealing another blow to his fragile sense of reality.

Shifting slightly, Wesker moved so he could properly hit Chris' prostate, making him reach down to grab Wesker's ass, pushing him in deeper and closer while his head tossed back to let out a masculine groan.

Growling, Wesker let out small moans and grunts as he slammed into Chris, his noises more controlled and restrained than Chris' own throaty moans. But that didn't make them any less sexual or primal, completely different from the soft, higher sounds girls would make. Chris desperately wanted to hear more.

Sliding his hand up, Chris found purchase on Wesker's shoulder while his other hand moved down to grasp his own dick, pumping it while he desperately fought for completion.

All of his reservations went out the door the moment Wesker began to move inside and against him, creating an all consuming rhythm to a complicated and fast dance between their bodies. Now all that was left was wanting and desperate human beings, unable to control their wild and primal nature anymore.

Three more thrusts later and Chris was crying out, milky white semen spilling over his hand and stomach in thick ribbons as he ground against Wesker, the pleasure and pain sending him over the edge. His vision had gone hazy near the end, but he noticed Wesker had ducked his head into the crook of his neck, preventing him from seeing the ecstasy on his Captain's face as he finally came.

"You belong to me now, Chris," Wesker hissed against his ear as he moved to press their cheeks together. Hot breath slid across Chris' sweat slicked skin, making him shudder despite the suffocating heat inside the room.

Wesker's words held no real meaning to Chris at the present moment, his mind and body overstimulated. Wesker had slid out mere moments ago, but continued to lie between his legs, chest pressed against his own as if he was savouring the fact that he didn't have to be Albert Wesker- STARS Captain and stand up citizen. Instead, he could just be a regular guy with no inhibitions or duties holding him back.

Or at least, that was what Chris liked to think.

But the moment was soon broken as Wesker raised himself up and off of Chris, breaking the connection between their bodies. Watching Wesker through heavy lidded eyes, he saw the man slide his condom off before he walked to the bathroom to throw it away.

Switching the light on in the bathroom, the darkness in the bedroom was broken and with the light came reality. Squinting as his eyes adjusted to the light, Chris glanced down at his chest to see the mess that had collected and moved just a fraction to feel the stickiness down below.

Yup, he had certainly just had sex with a guy.

Looking up from his stomach, Chris saw Wesker returning to the bedroom, hair still a wild mess but the rest of him seemed perfectly put together. Tossing Chris a wet washcloth Chris fumbled as he tried to catch it and sit up at the same time.

"T-thanks," Chris whispered, voice hoarse and low. Wesker hummed in reply while Chris wiped his chest off and moved to clean his stretched and sore hole, embarrassment in his movements as he avoided looking at Wesker. Once clean he stood up, legs shaky while he tried to figure out what to do next.

"Give me the cloth," Wesker said, reaching out to take it. Placing it in Wesker's hand, Chris stood by the bed as he began to take the comforter off the bed, realization dawning upon him that they had had sex on top of the sheets rather than under.

Throwing the sheet cover and cloth in his laundry basket, Wesker grabbed a blanket from his closet and turned around to see Chris standing nervously by the bed.

"I guess I'll just… go home or—" Chris began before Wesker snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You can't expect me to drive you home after that, because frankly I've worked myself into a rather exhausted state," he replied while spreading the blanket (which was also black) onto the bed. Going back to the bathroom, Wesker turned the light off, darkness again covering them.

Moving back into the bedroom, Wesker sat on the edge of the bed, cracking his neck twice before he lay down under the blanket. Rolling over, Wesker looked up at Chris who was still standing on the other side of the bed wondering if Wesker was actually going to let him sleep beside him.

Even though they had just had sex, one of the most intimate things you could do with someone, the thought of sleeping next to Wesker seemed unreal. He was almost expecting Wesker to throw him out as soon as he was done, but maybe…

"I would like to sleep without you staring at me, Christopher. Now get into bed unless you'd like to walk home in the cold."

Chris nodded slowly and climbed into the bed, only now realizing how soft and comfy it was. Rolling back over, Chris was left to stare at Wesker's bare back, shoulders still tense, making him figure Wesker was always in a constant state of tension and stress even after mind-blowing sex. Moving to lie on his back, Chris stared back up at the white ceiling, a hand behind his head as he contemplated what he was going to say.

"I guess I should thank you," Chris mumbled after a minute of silence.

"Why?" Wesker's voice was muffled slightly by the pillow, but the irritation still carried through loud and clear to Chris.

"For fucking me instead of snapping my neck like you had originally planned."

"You're welcome."

Chris snorted slightly and rolled his eyes, looking back over at Wesker before returning his gaze to the ceiling. Always taking things literally…

Closing his eyes, Chris let out a sigh and found himself falling asleep quickly, exhaustion taking over his body. Relaxing as much as he could, Chris fell asleep with his body sliding closer into Wesker's personal bubble of space.

It wasn't his fault Wesker was so warm.

* * *

_There we go! First time sex, FTW! Hopefully it was well worth the wait, I know I was super excited to finally write it! But yes, Wesker and Chris have now offically 'bonded', but what's in store for them next? Gotta wait to find out! Also, I've been getting confused when people find me on other websites, wondering where they know me from, so I thought I would tell you all my various usernames from around the interweb so I can't be confused next time someone says hello!  
DeviantArt: Bhutas  
Y!Gallery: Lemony  
Livejournal: unavalible  
PSN: Bhutas  
So yeah, feel free to add me as a friend or watch me on either of those sites! Just if you add me on the PSN or LJ, please tell me you're adding me! And once again, thanks for all the favorites/reviews/alerts! You guys are... wonderful! (I am running out of words to tell you all how much I appreciate you!) _


	15. Relationships

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note: **Hey-o! Another chapter here! Hope you enjoy this one as much as you can, especially given the last one had everything you guys were waiting for! Nothing much to say, though, other than the fact that I am so glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter! And thanks so much for all of the reviews, favorites, watches, etc. I really, really appreciate it! You guys are all... fabulous!

**

* * *

Chapter 15- Relationships**

_Remember, we all stumble, every one of us. That's why it's a comfort to go hand in hand._ ~Emily Kimbrough~

Chris felt like he was in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

An inviting and pleasant feeling ran through his body, the effects of sleep keeping a lasting hold on him. He didn't want to fully wake up at that moment; he didn't even want to roll over in fear that the motion would cause him to knock some sense into his sleep-addled brain.

No, he was quite content to keep his face stuffed in an unfamiliar pillow while a dark blanket stayed wrapped around his nude form, shielding him from the morning light that was creeping through the blinds and into the bedroom.

But of course, all good things must come to an end, and when Chris felt his leg cramping he was forced to move. Wincing slightly as he kicked his leg out, he suddenly found a rather dull ache accompany the action- only the dull ache was placed in an unfamiliar territory to have such a pain.

Ah yes, anal sex- it brought so much joy in the morning.

Groaning, Chris rolled so he was on his back, eyes still squeezed shut. Last night…

_Heavy pants, rough grabs, searing kisses, and a decision that would change his life in a simple cascade of pleasure._

Opening his eyes, Chris stared up at the white-washed ceiling before daring to look beside him at the empty place on the bed. He had wanted to see Wesker… but it wasn't like he had really expected it.

That didn't take away from the constricting feeling in his chest, though.

Trying to sit up, Chris found his arms locked under the blanket, which he had managed to curl around himself two or three times, and briefly wondered if he had stolen the blankets from his companion last night while flailing in order to release himself from the cover cocoon.

Finally succeeding, Chris sat up and swung his legs over so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. A moment passed where he just stared at the floor, unwilling to think about what it meant to have Wesker non-existent in his own apartment when he heard a sound coming from the kitchen.

Glancing over the floor quickly, Chris spotted his boxers and stood up, grabbing them and throwing them on before shuffling out of the room and into the living room.

There, hunched over the countertop in the kitchen, was Wesker, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he hastily scribbled something down on a white slip of paper. He was fully dressed in a well pressed suit, hair back in regular order, and sunglasses perched upon his nose as per usual.

He looked decidedly the same.

Chris had, for some strange reason, expected Wesker to look… different. After what had happened between the two of them he thought that maybe Wesker would no longer hold that appeal- the itch he had would have left and he would continue on his merry heterosexual ways without worrying about these new feelings.

Or, perhaps, he had expected to see Wesker on a more intimate level, like he could really see into him- read him like a book. Unfortunately for Chris, Wesker was just as guarded as he was last night, even when they were bare and pressed together in the most intimate way.

Wesker was just… Wesker.

Granted, his was still incredibly handsome, dangerously volatile, and all together beautiful.

But still… it was the same old Albert Wesker. Only now Chris could daydream with an intimate knowledge behind what he looked like under his STARS uniform, which wasn't an all together unpleasant idea.

Tearing his gaze from the paper before him, Wesker glanced up to see Chris standing awkwardly in the living room, hand behind his head as he scratched an itch, mouth slightly open after finishing a yawn.

"Oh, I didn't hear you get up," Wesker stated, making a fist around the sheet of paper he had previously been writing on. Tossing the crumpled ball into a waste-bin beside the fridge, Wesker straitened his tie and moved from behind the counter to go towards the door.

"I was just writing you a note to explain where I had gone to. I have a meeting I must attend today, so you may eat what you would like in the fridge and then, unfortunately, you'll have to walk home."

"Uh… it's Saturday," Chris replied, hand dropping to his side as he observed how collected Wesker was.

Ever calm and collected- bastard.

"Yes it is- a remarkable observation. But you know well enough that the men we deal with in our business care little if it is the weekend or not. Besides, I do not enjoy sleeping in." Grasping the briefcase that was beside the door, Wesker moved to exit the room and walked halfway out before pausing.

Turning around, he looked over the edge of his sunglasses at Chris, eyes scanning before a smirk appeared at his lips.

"You seem to have your boxers on inside out… oh, and they're also backwards."

And with that he was gone, leaving Chris standing alone in the middle of the living room with his boxers on backwards. Staring at the door, Chris stayed still for quite a while before sighing softly.

It wasn't the morning wakeup he had hoped for.

Turning around, he made his way back to the bedroom, where he gathered his clothes and threw them on hastily, not even bothering to put his underwear back on in working order- he would worry about that when he was a little more… clean.

Returning to the living room, Chris snatched his jacket off the back of the couch from where it had been placed the night before, and moved to put it on before pausing mid-arm swing. His jacket had been lying under Wesker's own all night, and the cologne he liked so much permeated the material of his coat ever so slightly.

Sighing yet again, Chris put it on and left the apartment, wrapping his jacket further around his form. Walking down the hallway to the elevator Chris pushed the down button and waited for a short while until the doors opened with a now familiar ding.

Stepping into the empty elevator, he leant against the wall in the corner and tried not to smell his own jacket. The elevator only went down another floor before it opened again, revealing the mother from the night before. She stepped in and stood on the other side, glancing back and forth from the door to Chris- eyes leaving quickly as soon as Chris' locked with hers.

"You want something?" Chris snapped out, irritation from the morning mounting more and more. _God damn, why did Wesker just leave like that? Didn't he… no, obviously he didn't care_.

Jumping at the outburst, the woman curled further into the corner. "I was… well I've never seen you before and you were going upstairs with Mr. Wesker last night… and well—" she began, an evident stutter in her voice.

"Wondering what our relationship is? Well we fucked, but apparently that doesn't matter to a dick like him- I bet he takes guys' anal virginity all the time and I was just another notch on his bedpost," Chris spat out, venom and frustration in his voice.

Storming out of the door as it opened and into the lobby, Chris didn't even pay attention to the frightened mother, whose eyes were wide as she hugged her jacket close.

She would never ask about her upstairs neighbour again.

Throwing open the main door, Chris strode out of the building and hurried down the street, the cold from the snow quickly chilling him to the bone. Shoving his hands in his pockets, another blast of cologne invaded his senses, making him even angrier.

He shouldn't be feeling like this- he shouldn't be so angry that Wesker hadn't done something or recognized the fact that they had been intimate last night. He knew that Wesker wasn't interested in him on more than a physical way- or had he?

Chris now realized that he wished Wesker would want him for more than just sex… that maybe he wanted Wesker to deem him worthy as a companion as well.

Chris also realized that maybe he was just blowing things out of proportion. Wesker had a meeting to attend, which would prevent any resting in bed together… but when he woke up, Wesker hadn't even touched him once, hadn't given him a kiss, hadn't done anything except keep his distance from him.

And then he just had to point out the underwear issue like a smug bastard.

Turning a corner, Chris continued towards his home, thoughts a whirlwind.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Fiddling with his coffee stick, Chris looked outside the window of the coffee shop, small snowflakes drifting down to coat the frozen street. Letting out a soft sigh, Chris closed his eyes and broke the stick in half.

The first snowfall of the season- and it was early too. October was just ending…

Sitting across from him was the ever patient Mindy, tea in her hands as she watched Chris pout, the occasional sigh escaping his lips. All of the anger he had towards Wesker was now replaced with confusion and disappointment, leaving him in a state of self-pity.

"You're going to have to tell me at some point in time, Chris." Mindy took a sip of her tea and watched Chris slowly open his eyes before turning to look at her, as if he finally recognized the fact that she was there.

"Tell you what?"

"I don't know, but when you call me up out of the blue on a Saturday to 'talk' I figured something was up."

Tossing the broken stick onto the table, Chris shoved his coffee cup from side to side, watching the liquid swirl around.

"I slept with Wesker last night."

A gasp was heard across from him, and Chris had to look up to see Mindy- eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

"A-and… how do you feel?" she finally asked, putting her tea down on the table, gaze never leaving Chris.

Truth be told, Chris really didn't know what to think or feel anymore. The sex was amazing- Chris felt it safe to say it was the best sex he had ever had. He liked how rough it was- how passionate it felt- and he actually liked the feeling of Wesker inside him, no matter how 'girly' that sounded.

But despite the amazing sex and that afterglow feeling that lasted for hours, Chris now felt empty.

He hadn't fully expected Wesker to stay in bed with him and cuddle in the morning. To share intimate and slow kisses as they greeted the dawn.

He hadn't expected it, but that didn't mean he didn't _want_ it.

The realization that he wanted to be with Wesker, as in be with him for not only the sex but everything else that a relationship came with, frightened Chris to a certain extent.

The thought of a relationship seemed foreign to him, and it left a tight feeling in his chest like his heart was trying to stop him from doing anything stupid.

And the thoughts about relationships would have been bad enough, but Chris was still wrestling with the morning that had followed.

Wesker had just… left. He had acted like he didn't even care what happened- like it _never_ happened. He had reverted back to his stoic and reserved self, not even acknowledging the fact that he had just mercilessly stripped Chris of his, in many respects, virginity.

After going home to shower and get a pair of clean clothes to wear, Chris had called Mindy up in order to talk to her. She was the only person who knew about his situation with Wesker, and he trusted her enough to speak to her. Besides, it wasn't like he could very well go to Barry and talk to him about it- that would just be… bad.

"I feel… strange," Chris finally said, frowning.

"Strange?"

"Yeah… like… I don't know if I should have done it, but at the same time I'm glad I did."

"Oh… well… was it any good? I mean the sex part," she asked, scooting closer so she was literally sitting at the edge of her seat.

"Yeah, it was… it was really good, actually," Chris began, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I mean, it hurt when he first… you know, and it was… different. But I liked it."

"And yet you don't seem entirely happy."

"I'm… I'm not." Sighing, Chris fiddled with the broken stick, eyebrows furrowed close together. "This is going to sound really… girly, but I feel kind of put out."

"What do you mean?" Mindy asked, reaching across to snatch the stick that was becoming even more mutilated due to Chris' ministrations.

"Well, when I woke up this morning, Wesker was already awake and dressed and he just… took off. Like, he left like nothing had happened at all. I don't expect him to talk about his feelings or anything, but…" Running a hand through his messy hair, Chris shook his head, anger coming out in his speech. "I don't know what I want- forget it, it's stupid."

"No, come on Chris, don't close up on me now," she said, a sad frown creasing the corner of her mouth.

"I just… I wish that he had at least recognized in some way what had happened. And I, rather naïvely, figured that maybe… maybe something would change between us for the better. I mean, I want… I want…"

"A relationship with him?" Mindy asked.

_No, that was completely out of the question. A relationship with Wesker was ridiculous- stop thinking about it._

Chris' gaze returned to the window for a moment as snow began to pile up outside, wind doing little to blow it away. "Maybe… maybe I really do want to be with him in… in a different way… I am so fucking screwed."

Everyone in the coffee shop heard the sound of Chris' forehead as it made contact with the table before him.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

When Chris finally returned home, nursing a bruised ego and forehead, he returned to the sound of a phone ringing. Throwing his jacket on his couch, Chris slowly made his way to the wall, snatching the phone out of its cradle with a little more force than necessary.

"Chris Redfield speaking," he sighed out, slouching against the wall.

"Chris, where the hell have you been? We've been calling all afternoon!" Barry's voice boomed over the other end, exasperation mixed with excitement coursing through his words.

"I was… out, with a friend. Why, what's going on?"

"Jill's been invited to the meeting tonight with that damn TAP group. We're going to get Jill to wear a hidden recording device so we can record the entire meeting, and the new guy Richard and I were going to sit in the back of a police van and listen in- we'll be back-up if things get shifty, yah know?"

"Oh, well that's great… and how am I included?" Chris asked, lacking his usual enthusiasm.

"Remember when Captain Wesker assigned you to this case alongside Jill a week ago? You were all excited before he told you that you weren't going undercover and were to simply act as back-up when the need came? Any of that ring any bells, Chris?"

"Oh yeah… forgot," Chris mumbled.

"Are you okay? You sound… different," Barry asked, concern evident in his tone.

"Yeah, I'm all good. I'll meet you at the RPD, okay?"

"Sounds good… Oh, and Chris- buck up, would yah? You sound like you've been put through the ringer and we need you on alert."

"Yeah, yeah…" Chris grumbled, hanging up after their goodbyes were said.

Maybe this case would distract him from the day's events, Chris thought as he wandered into his bedroom to snag his gun holsters and STARS badge. If anything, it was an excuse to get to know Richard more and also apologize to Jill for dragging her into that all together idiotic affair.

But it _did_ get him laid.

But getting laid was what got him in this mess in the _first_ place.

Yes, that damn drawer in Wesker's desk was the cause of _all_ these problems.

With this less than reasonable thought in mind, Chris took a deep, calming breath and opened the door to his apartment and left, ready for some action of the work variety.

* * *

_Yay! More action of the work variety! I try and make the story not ALL about Chris and Wesker's relationship- I love to include things about the STARS, seeing as how almost all of them are dead in the actual game! So yeah, not a lot of Chris and Wesker interaction, and the stuff that there was has left Chris super confused, but don't worry, you'll get more build up between the two in the next chapter! So thanks once again for reading/reviewing/etc.! We're almost at 200 reviews and I owe it all to you guys! _

_ Oh, and as an aside- _**In the future, I will be looking for someone who speaks French (not French Canadian, but Standard French) to help me write some of the upcoming chapters. This wont be for a while, but I'll need some to help me write certain sentences. So, if you speak French and are able to translate English into French, please contact me via PM so we may speak further! Thank you in advance!**


	16. Onenight Stand

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note:** On to yet another chapter! We're getting on when it comes to the number of chapters, eh? Well its going to continue to get longer and I hope you look forward to more character develpment and relationship building! And you know, funny scenes, sex scenes, action scenes- all the good stuff! Once again I would like to give you all a shout-out for being so totally awesome and amazing and totally wicked crazy cool. Without you guys, this story would not be truckin' along like it is, and I owe you guys a lot for your support! Anyways, without further ado... the next chapter!_  
_

* * *

**Chapter 16- One-night Stand**

_I'm always looking for meaningful one-night stands. ~_Dudley Moore~

"Are you all ready?"

"Yeah, although I think we should be asking Jill this more than anyone else," Chris replied from the front seat of the van, body twisted so he could see into the back where Jill, Barry, and Richard were all stationed- recording devices and cameras crowding the already small space.

"I'm ready- I've been waiting all week for this!" Jill tucked back a piece of her hair behind her ear, a grin adorning her features. Her corduroy jacket was pressed snugly around her slim form, adding extra padding to hide any of the wires taped to her back and stomach that hooked up to the recording system.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to get hurt," Barry quipped in, eyebrows furrowed as he gave Jill a stern look.

"I'm fine Barry, but I appreciate the concern. I have you three as backup, a hidden gun, and a barrage of self-defense moves under my belt. Besides, if we're all on top performance tonight I won't need any of that- and we are STARS, so I know we'll be fine."

"Gotta love your confidence," Chris said, a small smile appearing to match her own.

"Okay, the meeting is starting soon, so I better hurry over there. Hopefully I'll see you when it's all over rather than in the middle."

Giving the group one last confident smile, Jill opened the back door and hopped out before slamming it shut. Chris watched the young woman hurry off to the closed coffee shop a block away, dodging a patch of ice with ease before she was inside, away from view.

Turning around, Chris observed Richard as he flicked a few switches on, and the recording reels on the van's wall began to turn and the sounds from inside the coffee shop carried through.

"_Hey, Carry made it! Nice to see you could make it- we were worried the snow would have kept a lot of you guys at home."_

The sound of an unfamiliar male voice broke through the murmur inside the coffee shop, and all three of them hoped Jill would play her part well.

"_Thanks, Tony. I wouldn't miss my first meeting just because of a snowfall_."

A hearty laugh could be heard and shuffling carried through- idle conversation being made with everyone as more people began to arrive with Chris watching them trickle through into the coffee shop for a good fifteen minutes.

No noteworthy conversations were had with Jill for the duration of the mingling, but Jill did her best to greet everyone by their names- identifying them for possible future use.

"How many people were supposed to show up for this?" Chris asked, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. Barry looked up from a report open on his lap as Richard pressed his headphones closer to his ears, trying to catch all of the conversations with no interruptions.

Richard was quiet, but he seemed like a really good guy. Chris had never really had the chance to talk to him, and while he was on duty and the time for conversations wasn't exactly prime, Chris knew that the two would have to grab a drink sometime.

Although drinking now reminded him of scotch and passionate kisses- things he really did not want to think about.

"Around twenty, Jill estimated," Barry replied, standing up as best he could so he could shove through and move to sit in the passenger seat in the front. He almost toppled onto Chris once in his endeavour, but managed to stay semi-upright and land with little grace onto the seat.

Taking his hands out of his pockets, Chris rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked over at Barry, who was grinning.

"What's with the grin?"

"Are you starting to wear new cologne now? Trying to attract the ladies?" Barry nudged Chris with his elbow, his eyebrows waggling.

"What do you mean by that? I'm not wearing… oh shit."

His jacket probably still had that spice cologne smell on it… fuck.

"Y-yeah, that's exactly it. But I think I might stop- the scent isn't suited for me, I guess," Chris stuttered out, cheeks going pink while he slouched further down into his seat.

"What kind is it? It's kind of familiar, except I can't place it…"

Chris was about to make up some bullshit answer when Richard spoke up.

"The meeting has started, guys."

"Time to get to the bottom of this damn group," Barry mumbled, the three of them ready for action.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"A peaceful protest and a fucking bake sale?"

"Would you please stop repeating that, Chris?" Jill asked, her chin resting on her hand while her free hand twirled a coffee mug around.

"But… but a bake sale?" Chris was leaning forward in his chair, arms placed upon the cheap diner tabletop as he continued to repeat what TAP had planned. After all of that work it turned out TAP was moving from violent means to a more peaceful way- a realization coming to the leaders that STARS meant business and anything out of the ordinary would just be stupid now.

And so they had planned a peaceful protest outside of city hall, with a bake sale preceding the protest in order to raise funds for elderly healthcare and medical expenses. One of their main concerns as a group was the fact that the people who needed Umbrella's medication the most (the elderly) did not have the funds needed to buy such expensive pills. So they, as a collective, decided to try and mend such a situation. It was commendable in many respects, but a damn inconvenience for those like Chris and Jill who were looking for some excitement and not a bake sale.

After the meeting had taken place and the report data had been gathered, Barry and Richard had gone home to sleep after a long night. This left Jill and Chris to wander over to the diner a block away and sit in a florescent light booth at two in the morning, drowning their woes in cheap coffee and apple pie.

"The worst thing is they want me to bring the chocolate chip cookies. I'm allergic to chocolate and I'll just be tempted to eat some!" Jill sighed heavily and dumped another sugar packet into her weak coffee, a frown accompanying the action.

"You're allergic to chocolate?" Chris asked, momentarily distracted by the strange news.

"Not really allergic, just intolerant. I get horrible stomach cramps when I eat it."

"Remind me not to buy you a box of chocolate then," Chris mumbled, taking another bite of his pie.

"Girls aren't always flattered by chocolate; they also really like flowers." Jill shrugged and took a sip of her coffee before making a face. "Okay, I can't do it. No matter how much sugar I put in this it still doesn't taste good."

"Ever think the sugar is what's ruining the coffee?" Chris asked, an eyebrow raised as his fork dangled above the plate.

"That's impossible, sugar can't ruin anything." Smiling, Jill locked eyes with Chris, causing him to look right back. A moment passed before Jill looked away, a small smile still playing at her lips.

"Are you going to the Halloween party?" she asked, leaning back in her seat.

Chris mentally scolded himself. If she thought that was a 'moment' between them then he had just royally fucked himself over.

"Uh, what Halloween party, and when is it and where is it?" he asked, coming back to reality in time to find out he had no idea what Halloween party she was talking about. Chris hadn't been paying attention to what was going on outside of his 'love life', and had completely forgotten about the fact that Halloween was closing in, and with it another month closer to Christmas.

"Uh… it's today, Chris. It's the 31st- although very early on the 31st." Laughing, Jill shook her head before continuing. "I was just going to go to the one at the RPD- it's for staff mostly, and I figure it's going to be a lot of people eating cookies with the occasional on-duty cop running in to steal a treat before patrol. But it's better than sitting at home watching a re-play of The Shining."

"Uh… maybe. I don't have a costume, though."

"Weren't you in the Air Force? I'm sure you still have some of your combat gear- just go as a pilot," Jill supplied as the waitress came to put the bill down on the table. Snatching the receipt, Chris read over the bill and pulled his wallet out, paying for the both of them.

"Yeah, I guess I could do that- and don't worry about the bill, it's my treat," he said when he noticed Jill was about to speak up.

Grabbing their jackets, the two off-duty STARS members walked outside onto the cold street, frost sticking to the windows as ice-fog had set in across the town.

"So, I better see you at least make an appearance later this evening," Jill said as the two wandered back to the RPD's parking lot.

"Promise," Chris replied before they parted ways, both of them getting into their vehicles to drive home.

With the idea of a Halloween party in Chris' head and a stomach full of apple pie, he found himself momentarily forgetting about Wesker.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Is there a rule book or something that has a page that says every Halloween party has to have the 'Monster Mash' play at least once?" Kenneth asked, his back pressed against one of the bulletin boards, a glass of punch secure in his hands.

"Page nine, actually. Under the chapter 'Ways to Annoy Your Guests'," Chris said, scratching the back of his neck as his dog tags dug into his skin. In reality they weren't really digging in, but they felt like they were. After getting discharged, Chris hadn't put them on because they were too much of a reminder of his failures. But, well… it was Halloween and he would be a pretty shoddy pilot without them. He had debated wearing them for quite a while before he actually placed them around his neck- he knew he had to move on at some point in time and a Halloween party was just an excuse for him to suck it up.

"Looks like whoever put on this party bought the book," Kenneth said, taking a sip of the sickeningly sweet liquid.

"Oh well, at least we get to see everyone loosen up a little, right? Police work is a tough gig, and, you know… it's an excuse for Forest to flirt with Jill some more." Chris turned his attention to the group standing across the room from them. A conversation was taking place between three regular duty cops, Forest, Jill, and Richard. Forest was currently waving his arms around, trying to drag Jill's attention towards him in what, Chris assumed, was a _hilarious_ tale while dressed in a cheap banana suit.

Jill for her part was nodding and smiling- making it seem like she was enjoying the story when her gaze would flit over to Chris and Kenneth, a silent plea for escape carrying over to them loud and clear.

"Think we should save the angel?" Kenneth asked, referring to the fact that Jill was wearing a set of wings and a halo crown- a cheap but effective costume.

"I don't know, it's sort of amusing seeing Forest jump around in a banana suit," Chris replied before Jill was dragged away by a female cop, one Chris had seen Jill talking to earlier.

Jill had only been with the RPD for two weeks and she had already managed to make a large number of friends- Chris was a little jealous of the fact.

"So what are you going as?" Chris asked, looking over Kenneth, who was dressed in regular civilian clothing, nothing spooky or different about it.

"I'm the token black guy, so you should feel safe standing next to me. Any ghouls try and attack us and I'll be your meat shield," Kenneth said casually.

Chris stared at Kenneth, eyes slightly wide. He didn't know if he should laugh or not. Would he be considered racist if he laughed- or was it really considered racism if the joke was told by the minority in the joke? But what if Kenneth got offended because he didn't laugh- then he would just come off as a fool who couldn't get a joke, and no one liked working with a guy like that.

"You can laugh, Chris- you look confused but I meant it to be funny," Kenneth said after a long pregnant pause, a smile gracing his features.

Chris let out a breath he had been holding and laughed softly, cheeks going pink. "Thanks for telling me, I was afraid I might come off… odd if I laughed and I wasn't supposed to."

"A lot of people think you can only laugh at a minority-based joke if you're from that minority, but that's not always the case- you just gotta be careful." Raising his glass to Chris, Kenneth took another sip while Chris fiddled with his dog tags.

"Yeah, I know what you mean, it's a delicate balance. I mean, I guess I could tell jokes about—"

Chris has meant to say American jokes- he really had. But then _he_ walked past the office door and something else slipped out.

"—being gay, but that would be touchy."

"Being gay?" Kenneth asked quickly, his entire attention resting on Chris all of a sudden.

"I didn't- did I say gay? Uh, listen, I have to go," Chris stuttered out, gaze flicking from Kenneth to the door hallway where Wesker was currently trudging down with his usual determined gate.

Chris _had_ to talk to him- now.

Pushing past a 'Zombie Brad', Chris made his way quickly out of the office and through the hallway, catching Wesker at the end of it.

"Captain!" Chris called out, jogging up to the older male. He slowed down when Wesker stopped and turned around, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Christopher?" Wesker shoved a folder under his arm and cocked his head to the side, expectancy radiating off of him.

"Uh… can we… talk?" Chris asked, his dog tag fiddling becoming more and more frequent as the seconds passed.

"I believe we are talking now, but I suspect you would like to speak in private?" When Chris nodded, Wesker turned around and continued down the hallway and through a few doors before going up the stairs all the way to the STARS office, Chris trailing behind as per-usual.

When they entered the office, Chris closed the door behind himself and watched as Wesker tossed the folders on the desk and sat on the edge, relaxed despite the tension between the two.

"What is it you wanted to discuss, although I have a feeling I already know."

"Why are you working at night on a Sunday when all of STARS have the day off?" Chris asked, dodging the real question with one that was genuinely bothering him. It was eight at night, so why the hell was Wesker still working?

"Well, I… wasn't expecting that. But if you must know, I came back to the office to retrieve a few files that I found myself needing," Wesker replied, quickly composing himself.

"Oh… well you should go home and get some rest," Chris said, sounding lame even to his own ears. Here he was with the perfect opportunity to talk to Wesker about Friday night and all he could tell Wesker was to get some sleep.

"I will as soon as you say what you would really like to say." Wesker pushed himself off of the desk he was leaning against and walked over to Chris, stopping before him so there was a slight distance between the two. Taking Chris' hand in his own, Wesker gently pulled it away from the dog tags and pushed his arm down before letting go. Chris suddenly found it hard to breathe as Wesker closed in and touched him yet again, memories from their night together invading his mind.

"First, though, I would appreciate it if you would stop fiddling with your dog tags- it is rather distracting."

Nodding, Chris looked down at his hand for a moment before looking back at Wesker, his regular sense of reality coming back, and with it more confidence.

Chris wasn't one to let simple matters such as this intimidate him.

"I wanted to talk about Friday night, actually… wanted to see where we stood now."

Stepping back from Chris, Wesker nodded and went back to his desk where he grabbed his folder. Turning back around, he smiled softly- but Chris didn't feel much warmth from it.

"I believe that it was just something to pass the time- a pleasant diversion from the mundane parts of life that we must all take part in. But I don't expect anything to come of this… why, did you?" Wesker said, every word breaking Chris just a little bit.

He refused to show it- too bad his voice had a tendency to betray him.

"Uh… yeah, that's what I thought too- a diversion… yeah, it's, uh… good to know we're on the same page. Just… move on," Chris muttered, his voice sounding hollow in his ears.

"I agree- we wouldn't want to add complication to our work environment with such personal matters. In any case, I believe I should be going home to get some rest, as well you should too. You look like you haven't slept well and I need my men on top performance."

Chris nodded and watched Wesker leave, unable to really say or do anything. Watching the door close, Chris went to his desk and sat down in his chair before running a hand through his hair.

Wesker had pretty much just said what Chris feared the most- and worst of all he had gone along with it. He hadn't said anything to try and change Wesker's mind, hadn't said anything to really tell him how he felt. He just… agreed.

Like a fucking coward.

Resting his head on his desk, Chris closed his eyes and tried not to think about how much it affected him. He was still vainly holding onto the notion that he was okay with only being with Wesker once, when it clearly was not true anymore.

Sometimes Chris seriously questioned his love life.

* * *

_Yeeeeah, more drama! But hey, I've already eluded to the fact that there will be more chapters of this story- a lot more, and what kind of story would this be if I just ended the relationship so suddenly? Not a very good one, thats what! So never fear, things will work out... sometimes... maybe... possibly. Keep on reading to find out! Thanks once again you guys! Also, there will be more action coming up for you adreneline junkies! Hopefully you'll look forward to that!  
_


	17. Anger

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Little bit of violence_

**Authors Note: **Chapter 17! Isn't this exciting you guys, we're already at chapter 17 and yet things are still just as fucked up! *laugh* But it'll get better soon... maybe. Anyways, I gotta admit this is one of my favorite chapters, mostly because we get some more STARS action. So I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! And once again, huge thanks to all of you who read and review/favorite- you're SO amazing and wonderful. Your reviews and favorites brighten my day, they really do. And I hope my review replies aren't too weird! Also, I've got a questio for all of you at the end of the chapter, so if you could read it, I'd appreciate it!_  
_

**

* * *

Chapter 17- Danger**

"_Anger is only one letter short of danger"_~ Anonymous~

"_You're so tense, Wesker…"_

_Calloused hands glided across strong back muscles, pale skin contrasting with honey bronze._

"_You shouldn't worry about such matters, Christopher…"_

_Hot breath danced across his cheek, the slight press of lips signalling the faintest kiss across his jaw-line._

"_What if I want to worry?" _

_A gentle press between his legs made him open, heart skipping a beat as a familiar weight pressed him apart. _

"_You'll continue to worry, Christopher… worry until there is nothing left of you. Stop and breathe for once. Concern yourself with things that matter."_

_It didn't hurt… not like the first time. It felt reassuring and right… but there was something else, an ache behind it all- a longing for… something. _

"_What if I want to concern myself with you?"_

_A chuckle, carrying over to him through the thick, heavy air, wrapped around his conscious and lapped over his skin, goose bumps rising while his arms wrapped lazily around the man's neck._

"_Soon enough your concern will be only of me. Cherish the moments when I don't haunt you."_

A loud beep blasted through the room, breaking into Chris' consciousness. Eyes fluttering open, he awoke to his room being washed in the morning light with his alarm clock screaming beside his head.

Slamming his hand down on the off button, Chris sent the inanimate object a death glare before rolling onto his back to stare at his ceiling.

Another dream he didn't remember. He had been waking up for the past month with no recollection of his dreams from the night before, only a vague feeling of… unease.

He knew Wesker was always involved, though.

How could he not be? Chris constantly thought about his Captain now, even more than when he was simply longing after the man. Now that he had tasted him, he wanted more… so much more.

But he couldn't. Not when Wesker had shot down any ideas he had been having about them starting something back in October. He just wished his mind would get the message and stop wandering over to thoughts of the aristocratic male every chance it had- it was the end of November now and he thought that he would be over it.

Clearly he wasn't.

Getting out of bed, Chris shuffled to the bathroom to get ready for the day. No use dwelling on the fact that he was an obsessed man, even when this obsession threatened to get the better of him.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"You ready for today, Christopheeer?"

Looking up from his computer, Chris glared at Forest and snatched a sticky-note off a pad and scribbled something quickly down before pushing it on Forest's forehead.

"Ready for what- and don't call me Christopher."

"Ready for our competition today! You didn't forget about it, did you?" Forest reached up and took the note off of his head before reading what was written across it in Chris' horrible chicken scratch printing.

'Idiot' was all it said.

"Our… competition?" Chris asked, a confused smile spreading across his face as he desperately tried to remember what Forest was talking about it.

He had been so wrapped up in everything that was happening exclusively in his little bubble that he seemed to go through most of his day in a slight daze, mind wandering all over the place until it either stopped on thoughts of Wesker or thoughts of food.

Sometimes the two mingled well together.

Occasionally though, when he wasn't thinking about how love-sick he was, he began thinking about work and everything it entailed. Missions, paperwork, late-night coffee breaks with Jill…

"Your shooting range competition," Jill interjected from behind Chris, her form huddled over sheets of paper- attention seemingly wrapped up in her work except for the fact that she had clearly been listening into the conversation.

"Yeah, remember a week ago we agreed to finally settle the score on who was the better marksman? We set the date for today and we're even going to have Enrico help judge. Damn, you sure are wrapped up in your own little world as of late." Forest patted Chris on the back and stuck the 'idiot' note right in the middle, an innocent smile accompanying the action.

"Damn, that was today? Shit, when?"

"Right after our shifts are over… so that's about… two hours from now. Man, with you so out of it this is going to be a piece of cake to win!" Sticking his tongue out, Forest waved goodbye before sauntering back to his own office.

"He wishes…" Chris mumbled, shaking his head as he went back to his work.

"I don't know- he does have a point. You've been so out of it the last couple of weeks," Jill said while turning around in her chair to see the 'idiot' note stuck to Chris' back. Ripping the sheet off of his shirt, she crumpled it into a ball and tossed it in the waste basket beside her desk.

"He gets like this every so often- he's still going through puberty," Barry said from his desk across from Chris', tone completely serious as he skimmed through a gun magazine.

"What the hell, Barry! I am not going through puberty… I just have some things on my mind," Chris mumbled, throwing a paperclip across his desk at Barry.

"And I have to get through this paperwork, so will you all just shut up?" Brad declared loudly, looking up from what was clearly a self-help book and not paperwork.

"Is everyone in a bad mood today?" Jill asked, rolling her eyes and she turned back around in her chair while Chris slowly moved his back, gently knocking his against hers.

"Hey, don't be like that… you gonna root for me today?" he whispered, tilting his head back so Jill could hear him.

"Mm, maybe. I only root for someone I know will win."

Her tone was playful and Chris scoffed before moving back to his desk. Well now he was determined to win this damn marksman competition, seeing as how everyone thought he would lose.

He was so determined, in fact, that he didn't even stare when Wesker walked into the office, the top few buttons of his shirt open, exposing just a small amount of his collarbone to Chris.

No, he didn't stare… too much.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"So it's just a matter of who gets more points on two different targets?" Chris asked as he peered down the shooting range hallway, eyes scanning over the human-shaped targets.

"Yup, pretty much." Forest smiled and leaned against the wall, his eyes scanning the targets in the back too.

"Sounds simple enough- I thought you would add something in, like have random explosions in the background or something to throw me off."

"Oh come on, fair's fair. Besides, I could kick your ass without needing to distract you," Forest said, a casual air surrounding him despite the excitement that was felt in the room. All of the STARS team had shown up (minus Wesker) to view the spectacle that was sure to be the final confrontation between the two men.

Chris shrugged and walked over to the table where the guns were laying- new STARS issue guns that Barry had managed to have specially made for the group. Chris' custom one fit comfortably in his hand, and he couldn't help but feel a little more powerful with the item in his hand- it was _his,_ after all.

"You go first," Forest instructed, motioning for Chris to take the first go at the targets up ahead.

Placing his glasses over his eyes and his headphones over his ears, Chris loaded his gun and stepped before the target. As soon as he gazed down the white washed isle to stare at the black figure before him, his mind went blank.

Everything he had been holding in himself, all of his thoughts and fantasies, frustrations and anxieties, lifted as soon as he lifted his gun.

And he did what he did best.

Moments later and Chris had finished his two targets, center and nine-point hits riddling the targets. Shucking his glasses and headphones off, Chris turned around and winked at Forest, daring him to do better.

And he didn't- surprisingly.

It was a close call between the two, but after they grabbed the targets and Enrico counted up the points, Chris had won by a marginal difference.

"What- are you serious? Man, I thought I was going to win… well, at least I lost to the best." Forest patted Chris on the back before shoving him playfully, almost knocking him into Joseph.

"I'm proud of you, Chris. I honestly didn't think you would win… but I'm glad you did because I had ten dollars sitting on you," Barry said, nudging Kenneth while holding his hand out, indicating the man should pay up.

Rolling his eyes, Kenneth handed the money over and sighed.

"You guys had bets on the two of us?" Chris asked, a grin seemingly permanently plastered on his face. He had actually won the competition- even with his rather distracted behaviour.

"Of course we did, why wouldn't we? Come on, this was the competition between the two teams- Bravo vs. Alpha. Of course Alpha team would win, though." Edward began cheerful, but when he finished the entire atmosphere in the room changed.

"Uh… hey, I think it's time you all went home," Enrico said, breaking the tense atmosphere between the two teams. Nodding in agreement, Chris hurried out of the room first with everyone trailing behind, as if leaving the room would get rid of the tension that had been taking a toll on all of them for the past few months.

"So… do I get anything as a reward? Like a trophy or something?" Chris asked Jill as they went to their lockers on the first floor of the RPD.

"I don't know, do you think Wesker will pay to have your name engraved on a little trophy for the office?" Jill smiled and patted Chris on the shoulder. "So eager for shiny rewards…"

"Hey now, are you insulting my intelligence?"

"No, I don't believe she was, Christopher." Wesker's cool drawl caught all of the STARS members' attention as they walked down the hallway, making them stop to see the Alpha team Captain stepping out of a briefing room. "But what I do know is that all of you are needed in this briefing room immediately- we have a very serious case on our hands."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Chris had pretty much worked out that if you lived in Raccoon City for too long, you would go crazy. Or at least become less than stable.

The serious case Wesker had been speaking about was not only serious, but dealt with yet another insane individual whose life was somehow affected by Umbrella in a negative manner. Chris didn't know why people here went crazy or why they decided to attack Umbrella, but it happened on such a regular basis that he was beginning to think that there was something in the water.

The case that they had to deal with involved a young man who used to work for Umbrella- an ex-secretary for one of the many separate firms involved in running the business aspect of the company. Due to a slight dip in sales during the last quarter, Umbrella had to make a few job cuts and, unfortunately for Mr. Gladstone, he was one of the few who had to be let go.

He didn't take it well, according to the file. He was unable to find a job after that, lost his apartment, his girlfriend, and was now living back with his parents. Chris almost felt sorry for the guy… _almost_. Any real sympathy he would have had for the guy disappeared when he heard why they were going after him.

He was currently on the 17th floor of the main Umbrella Headquarters in downtown Raccoon City, a semi-automatic rifle strapped to his back with two Beretta handguns- fully loaded and with the finger of a desperate man at the trigger.

He was holding everyone on the 17th floor up, and many suspected that his old boss was on that floor and would most likely be on the receiving end of any violence.

Of course the RPD had specially trained men and women who worked on hostage situations, and they were, of course, already present on the scene at the moment. But because the case had something to do with Umbrella, STARS also had to make an appearance, even though they would not be dealing with Mr. Gladstone himself.

Or so they thought.

Cop cars and police officers had surrounded the building, many of them looking upwards at the 17th floor, faces tight with tension. Off to the side stood a man with a cell phone pressed against his ear, his voice calm and collected as he presumably spoke to the agitated and very dangerous man.

"Good, you guys are finally here." Sauntering up to the STARS team, Chief Irons sent Wesker a slight glare while wrapping his jacket further around his bulging stomach. Without waiting for the team to even say hello, he began to explain what they were supposed to do. "Alpha team goes in and searches all of the floors up to the 17th floor, looking for anyone else who is stuck in the place. If you find someone, get 'em out and keep them calm- we don't need any frantic people coming out for the news crews to see; it'll give them too much ammo on us."

"What about Bravo team?" Wesker asked, looking around at their surroundings, gauging the situation based upon the looks of those police officers.

"Bravo team is to go all the way to the top and work their way down. Marini, I don't want your team going onto the 17th floor- same goes for your team, Wesker. The jerk that's causing all of this commotion is staying on the 17th floor and we've got him on the line, trying to talk him out of anything he might do. He'll probably stay on that floor but if he moved, we want everyone out of the building and it's up to you guys to do it… god help us all."

Wesker narrowed his eyes from behind his sunglasses but nodded nonetheless. Turning on their radios, the two separate teams locked onto the main radio signal in order to receive vital information from those situated outside as to what was happening on the 17th floor before venturing towards the building.

Chris' stance was tight and ready for action, even though he knew that they weren't going to run into anything dangerous. But despite knowing the danger was secluded to one floor, he couldn't get rid of the slight unease he was feeling as soon as they stepped through the door of the building.

"See you guys at the bottom," Marini said before leading his team to one set of stairs situated behind the head secretary's desk. Alpha team watched them go, nods and words of encouragement passed softly between them all before they too began up a different set of stairs not far off. The less people they had crashing through a staircase the better.

"We all need to stay calm and orderly for the people we may find- they're probably high strung and frantic, especially considering they've been given little information on what is going on," Wesker explained, although Chris suspected he was just trying to break the uneasy silence that accompanied them through the first floor of the building.

"Here I thought we were going to scare them by flailing our guns around and screaming," Chris mumbled as he opened one of the doors to an office, glancing around the room before moving on to the next alongside his team.

"Now is not the time for such smarmy tones, Chris," Wesker said, looking over his shoulder to send Chris a glare, which he could not see due to his Captain's insistence on wearing sunglasses.

They continued through the floors with little incident, finding a few stragglers on the 5th floor in one of the board rooms, eyes wide as they flung themselves down below the tables. Jill managed to coax the employees out before they all found enough courage to hurry down to the main floor and outside.

Occasionally a quick update would transfer through the radio from one of the police officers outside, explaining the situation as it came to them. Mr. Gladstone was still frantic and panicked up on the 17th floor, and didn't seem like he would calm down anytime soon.

"Does anyone else feel… unsettled?" Jill asked as they reached the 16th floor, silence carpeting the long, sterile hallway.

Chris was about to reply when suddenly all of the lights in the building went off, cloaking them in darkness. All four of them stilled, breathing momentarily stopping before the emergency lights came on, little blue lights in the corners of the hallways.

They did little to light the hallways, and Chris found himself squinting to make anything at a great distance from him out. If he hadn't been feeling unsettled before, he certainly did now.

"Blast! What the bloody hell is going on?" Wesker hissed out. Snatching the glasses off of his face, he pocketed them quickly while fiddling with his radio, shoulder pressed close against Chris as the four of them stayed on high alert. Barry fumbled around in his pocket for his flashlight while Jill continued to scan the hallways, alert and ready for anything.

"This is Captain Wesker from Alpha team, demanding an update. All of the power in the building was just cut and the emergency lights are doing little to light the 16th floor," Wesker said, his voice calm and demanding despite the desperate situation.

The crackling of the radio was all that could be heard before a frantic voice appeared on the other end. "The suspect has moved from the 17th floor; we repeat, the suspect has moved from the 17th floor. We have lost communication with the man, and are unable to regain it. Pull yourselves out of there now and make your way to the main floor. We repeat, get out now."

Swearing softly, Wesker hooked his radio piece back on his shirt and was about to move his team out when a soft gasp was heard, before the cocking of a gun thundered in everyone's ears.

Raising his gun in the direction of the sound, he found himself facing Jill- her face pale and skin stretched as a young man stood behind her, arm wrapped around her neck with a gun pressed to her temple.

"Drop your weapons," Mr. Gladstone hissed out, eyes narrow and full of insanity. His dark hair clung to his forehead, beads of sweat sliding down and over his deathly pale skin. Lips drawn back in a snarl, he pressed the gun closer against Jill's head.

All three of them bent over slowly, placing their guns on the ground carefully before standing back up to see Jill squeeze her eyes shut before opening them to lock eyes with Chris- fear mixed with determination in her gaze.

God, she was brave.

"Good… now turn off your radios."

They did as they were told, movements slow so as to not frighten the already jumpy individual. Silence passed before them all until he spoke again, demanding they leave right now.

"You know we can't do that… you've got a member of our team in your hands right now and we can't leave without her," Barry said, trying to keep his cool as the man backed further into the shadows, Jill stumbling as he dragged her along.

"And you know I can't just let you guys go without a bargaining chip. Besides, this is my fight- my problem. I don't need STARS coming in and fucking things up even more. You're all just pieces of shit, you know that?" he said, voice sick with desperation and pure _anger_. The venom behind his words stung all of them as they stood helplessly while he pressed closer into the darkness of the hallway.

"I know a lot about all of you- about where you've come from… what you've done. I worked for someone who knows all about STARS and numerous other little… little trivial things Umbrella supports without thinking about the costs- about how it'll affect those who have given their entire lives to this damn company."

Chris listened to the man continue to rant, but tried not to let what he was saying get to him. Instead he continued to give Jill encouraging looks between searching for an opening that would help them stop this guy. Wesker seemed unusually more tense after the man's little speech about knowing about them, but Chris let it slide past- there were more pressing matters at hand.

"I know it's unfortunate that you had your job taken away- I can see why you're hurt… but do you really want to hurt anyone? You know how it feels… so why do you want to make others go through that?" Barry asked, although the man didn't seem to listen to what he was saying.

"I know this one… you—" Tilting his jaw at Chris, he successfully drew his attention from Jill to his maddened face. "You got kicked out of the Air Force… pretty fucking useless, right? And t-then you were forced to move to this shit in the ground city to work for a fucking soul-sucking company, whether you like to think you work for Umbrella or not."

"That's true, all of it. But that doesn't mean I want to do something like this, though," Chris replied evenly, knowing the guy was trying to break them apart. It would take a lot more than a little blackmail to get under the skin of a police officer, especially one who made it into STARS.

The man grunted, the air from his lips brushing against the side of Jill's face, making her cringe while gasping softly. Everyone could tell Jill wasn't going to last much longer in this situation.

"A-and you… Mr. Albert fucking Wesker… leader of the STARS division. I always wondered why you became the leader of STARS, seeing as how you never trained as a police officer before—"

"That is quite enough," Wesker cut in before the man could say anything, only to have Mr. Gladstone press the gun hard against Jill's temple, a snarl accompanying the action.

"I figured it out, though… why you got the job. I found out from a reliable source that you're a fucking queer- a god damn faggot. And I bet you sucked cock to get to the top, just like some worthless slut."

Chris noticed that Wesker actually relaxed a fraction, and the sneer sitting at the corner of his mouth had been replaced with a cool disdain. Chris found it odd, but didn't dwell on the matter when the target began to talk to Barry.

As the man spoke, his stance changed a little, his side opening slightly for the option of a tackle. Chris knew it was dangerous and that if he wasn't fast enough the man would pull the trigger- but he had to do something. The suspect was getting increasingly more unstable and reasoning wasn't working with him- it was never going to work with him. He was far too gone…

And Chris was not about to see Jill die- they had become partners.

Barry seemed to distract the man for a good amount of time and Chris looked at Wesker for a moment, eyes going from Mr. Gladstone's open side to Wesker's grey eyes. Wesker was looking at him hard, piercing gaze locking with his, making it very clear that whatever Chris was thinking, he should _not_ do it.

But Chris was never one to listen to orders. Taking a deep breath, Chris shifted a fraction and lunged at the man while Barry let out a loud yell, distracting the man for that much needed second.

Slamming his body forcefully against the insane individual, Chris managed to knock the arm holding the gun to Jill's head away- a loud bang accompanying the action as Mr. Gladstone fired a desperate shot, the bullet straying upwards and through the ceiling. Jill stumbled forward and Wesker caught her as she collapsed, adrenalin rushing through her system before leaving just as quickly as it had come.

Chris wrestled the gun out of the man's hand and threw it across the floor before slamming his knee into the male's side, winding him and giving him that much needed break in the struggle to get the suspect's arms behind his back. Lying half on top of the spitting and struggling man, Chris watched out of the corner of his eye as Barry picked his gun up and pointed it at the suspect's head.

"I suggest you stop struggling- you're finished now," Barry said, taking the safety off of his gun to drive home the point that he was dead serious.

Mr. Gladstone immediately stopped struggling, his body stilling except for his heavy, laboured breathing. Taking a moment, Chris better positioned himself before slipping his handcuffs off of their resting place in the back of his belt and slapped them around the suspect's wrists. Standing up, Chris dragged the man upwards with him before shoving him against the wall.

Turning his radio back on, Chris ran a hand through his hair before speaking to the men below. "We found the suspect and have apprehended him on the 16th floor. I repeat, the suspect has been apprehended."

Grinning, Chris sent the man a triumphant smirk before turning around to see Wesker and Jill standing under one of the emergency lights. Jill was resting against Wesker, eyes wide and stance unusually weak.

But that wasn't what caught Chris off guard. Instead, the look he received from Wesker made his body go cold.

His jaw was clenched while his usually pale pallor had a hint of pink- anger literally showing on his features. But what really scared Chris was the look in Wesker's eyes- a deadly, silent fury resided behind stormy grey, and he couldn't look away.

"We need to talk," Wesker said, his voice wavering with pure, deep seeded anger.

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_Woah guys, woah. Wesker is angry... how will this play out, you wonder. You'll have to wait and see! But I hope you enjoy it when you do see it 'play out'. _**_Anyways, a question for you all!: _**_I was thinking of hosting/starting a WeskerxChris fanfiction contest! Yeah, that's right, a contest! Basically I want to see this fandom more active, and all of you guys have a hidden talent out there that's just waiting to take bloom! So I was thinking of hosting a fanfiction contest in which I set a theme, and those who want to enter write a oneshot that deals with the theme (and of course, WeskerxChris). I would be the judge, and the winners (1st, 2nd, and 3rd place) would receive a prize! You don't need to be the best writer in the world, have English as your second language, etc. you just need to bring forth all of your creativity, because I know you all have so much!** But the question from me to you is a) would you be at all interested and join? and b) what do you think a good prize would be?** I was figuring 1st place would get a specially written oneshot from me, with me including ANYTHING you wanted in it! Always wanted Wesker to do Chris on top of Jill's desk? If you asked and got first place, I would certainly write it! But I don't know if me writing a story is really a great prize- I don't wanna make myself seem mightier then thou. So if you could answer those questions quickly via a PM or even at the end of your review, I would really appreciate it! I won't go through with it unless I get a relatively large amount of interest and willing participants!_


	18. Fight

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Graphic Male/Male sex_

**Authors Note: HEY GUYS! CONTEST INFO ON MY PROFILE! GO CHECK IT OUT WHEN YOU'RE DONE READING THIS! **Uh... anyways, next chapter! Oh yeah, we're going to really start getting good now, I tell yah! I want to thank you all for the awesome feedback I got last chapter, as well as all of the interest in the fanfiction contest! Thanks to your input and interest, I'm going ahead with it! So please enter! Anyways, without further ado..._  
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Chapter 18- Fight**

_No matter how much cats fight, there always seem to be plenty of kittens_. ~Abraham Lincoln~

"I told you not to do it. I told you to stay where you were… and yet… and yet you went against my orders."

His voice was quiet, and bone chillingly cold. The barely contained rage behind his words leaked out occasionally, poisoning the room and those who heard it. Spider-like fingers were wrapped around a sheet of paper, crushing and crumpling it slowly and carefully, as if the paper were the other male's neck.

Albert Wesker was angry.

And it wasn't the regular anger either- there was a danger behind it all, a danger that no one was sure Wesker would be able to reign in and take control of if he had to- one that no one was sure he _would_ reign in if he had to.

"I'm not apologizing."

Before Wesker stood Chris, eyes locked with grey orbs hidden behind sunglasses. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched as he defiantly stood before his Captain, a refusal to back down.

Brad sat awkwardly in his chair while those in Bravo team heard the conversation through the open door, eyes wide as they viewed the scene between the two men.

Jill had been taken home by Barry- the two of them unaware of the scene that was taking place. If Jill hadn't gone through what she just did, everyone would have said she was lucky to have missed this _dangerous_ turn of events.

"If you want to keep your job and earn my respect, I would suggest you speak to me with more manners," Wesker snarled out as the paper he had been holding fell to the floor, the middle completely crushed.

"Why would I apologize to a man who doesn't give a flying fuck about his team?" Chris shot back.

"You jeopardized the entire mission with what you did, Christopher. I gave you multiple signals not to do anything, and yet you did it. Do you realize he could have killed Jill if you had hesitated for just a fraction- that he could have taken her life because of your reckless stunt?" Wesker's voice was rising with every passing second, and the air was thick with an unforeseen hazard.

"And if I hadn't done something she would have been shot anyways! I fucking did what no one else was going to do, and I saved her life!" Chris shouted back, making the fight between the two public knowledge to those who walked by the office.

"And you put everyone else's life on the line! The stray bullet he fired went through the ceiling and up to the 17th floor- almost hitting a civilian!" Wesker was shouting now as well, all of the anger he had been trying to keep back showing. His lips were drawn back in a feral sort of way- almost like an animal.

"I did what I had to do, and I don't give a _fuck_ if you don't agree," Chris said before making his way to the office door. Ripping it open, he stalked down the hallway, shoving past fellow RPD employees.

"No, we are not done here!" Wesker called after Chris, slamming the STARS door behind him as he trudged after Chris, fire behind his eyes. Chris didn't listen to Wesker's orders to stop and continued on his path to god knows where, pushing people out of his way.

"Redfield, I order you to stop- as your Captain giving you an order you should bloody well stop," Wesker called before he caught up to Chris. Grabbing his arm, he whipped Chris around with more force than necessary.

Without missing a beat, Chris moved with the motion Wesker had forced him in and turned around, fist at the ready. Taking aim, he lay a perfect blow to Wesker's jaw, snapping his Captain's head to the side with the force at which he hit.

"Don't you dare fucking touch me," Chris growled out as Wesker pressed a hand to his split lip, blood beading upwards from the new wound. Not waiting for a response, Chris turned back around and continued on his way- this time with no one stopping him.

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**XX**

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Sitting on the steps of his apartment without a jacket on, Chris wrapped his arms around his chilled form and brooded, eyes downcast as the snow slowly fell on him.

After the incident at the office, Chris had stalked the streets without his jacket or house keys on hand, having left them in his locker back at the station. He realized how stupid it was to leave without them as soon as he had walked a block away, but his pride and anger kept him from going back.

So he wandered the streets, being careful not to slip on the ice and patches of snow that had melted and frozen over again as he thought about the day's events. He had planned on going over to Jill's, just to see how she was, but halfway through his thoughts he realized he didn't know where Jill lived exactly.

He was angry- really angry. He couldn't believe that Wesker would just yell at him like that; degrade him and scold him like a small child in front of everyone for saving Jill's life. The way he saw it, if he hadn't done anything then he knew someone would have gotten shot, one way or another.

A part of him had thought Wesker would have been proud and congratulated his quick thinking in that sort of situation- it was what STARS was trained for, wasn't it? Instead, Wesker had treated him like he was worthless, like what he did didn't matter.

The mission was more important to him than his own team, apparently.

Chris had always thought Wesker cared about his team- that despite his cool exterior he genuinely cared what happened to them. But now… now Chris didn't know what to think of the man.

It didn't help that the entire conversation about him keeping his job drew far too close to his Air Force days, specifically the day he was officially discharged. The familiar feeling of nausea and restlessness consumed him for a moment, and he felt like curling up into a ball and crying against the side of the building. Chris hated remembering that feeling- that feeling of not being worthwhile, like what he strived to do everyday meant nothing.

Chris just wanted to do the right thing; he wanted to be that big damn hero.

And Wesker just had to fuck it up. He always fucked it up for Chris, no matter what the situation was. His career, his love life, his sanity- all of them in shambles because of one man, one man who Chris cared _deeply_ for and hated himself for it.

Growling, Chris stood up from his crouched position on the cold steps and trudged back to the police department, deciding that dying in the cold wasn't such a good idea. It was late enough that everyone should have gone home after such an evening, and it would be safe enough for him to grab his coat and keys before going home to brood in the warmth and safety of his little apartment.

It didn't take long for him to walk back to the station, and he could have kissed the furnace in the building when he felt the warm air hug him close as he stepped into the main lobby.

Hurrying to the locker room, Chris was stopped by a familiar voice.

"Chris, wait up!" Mindy called, her heels clacking against the tile floor of the station. Turning around, Chris saw Mindy all bundled up, stray hairs coming out of her bun and a weary look on her face.

"Hey… why are you still here?" Chris asked, hugging her quickly before pulling away, despite wanting to hold on to someone comforting for just a little while longer.

"With that crazy mission today I couldn't get out of here until later." Looking at her watch, Mindy's eyes got wide and she let out a nervous giggle. "I guess midnight is pretty late- dear me. A-anyways, I have something I need to tell you before you and I go home."

"What is it?" Chris didn't really want to hear anything else, and judging by Mindy's face it was bad news whatever it was.

"Well, uh… just an hour or so ago your Captain came storming into the office with some papers… he was going to just leave them on my desk but he saw me and… uh, almost threw them at me. A-anyways they're… well they're official documents basically saying you're on leave without pay… for a month."

Chris stood still for a moment, no emotion going through his already overstimulated mind. Wesker had put him on leave… for a month. He had basically fired him for a month.

That bastard.

"So I don't come to work... for a month," Chris said, tone surprisingly even as he looked at Mindy's worried face.

"Yeah… and without pay," Mindy added, cringing slightly as she did so.

"Well… thanks for telling me, Mindy. Go home and get some sleep." Chris smiled, although there was little warmth in his face. Patting her arm, he turned around and continued on his way to the locker room, completely void of emotion.

He knew he should be… upset, angry, desperate- a whirlwind of emotions. And he was all of those. But he didn't know which one he should be feeling the most- which one was _worth_ all of the trouble.

Grabbing everything he would need from his locker, Chris slammed the cubby closed when he was done and headed to the parking lot- still in deep contemplation of how he should be acting at the moment.

It took him the entire drive over to Wesker's apartment before he realized that he wasn't driving home like he intended, but decided to go with what his subconsciousness was having him do and continued on his way to Wesker's.

Parking his jeep outside the expensive building, Chris jumped out and went to the main doors. He stood outside for a moment and contemplated how he was going to get in. He doubted pressing Wesker's apartment number and asking the man to let him in would work- he would probably just ignore Chris.

He was about to give up when a familiar woman appeared at the door, glittery make-up on her face while her husband stood close beside her- the two of them obviously just coming back from a party.

"Oh, uh… you're Mr. Wesker's friend," the young mother said, giving Chris a wary smile.

"Y-yeah, I am… but, well, he asked me to come over and I think he's fallen asleep and isn't answering his buzzer," Chris said, lying to the woman in order to get inside the building. He doubted telling her he was here to confront Wesker in a manner that would probably turn violent would get him inside.

Nodding, she unlocked the main doors with her key and stepped in with her husband before letting Chris trail in as well, granting him access to the man a few floors above.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Chris smiled slightly and went to take the stairs to the appropriate floor, deciding that standing in a metal box wasn't the best idea given the current state his nerves were in.

Taking one step at a time, Chris went over his options. Maybe talking to Wesker would be okay- tell him how upset he was and talk about his god damn feelings. Maybe it would work… but talking to Wesker was like playing Russian roulette. Sometimes you would get the bullet.

Stopping outside the apartment door, Chris took a few relaxing breaths before knocking on the door, hoping Wesker wasn't asleep.

It took a moment before the door opened a crack, Wesker peering through the opening.

"Go away, Christopher, before I decide to fire you completely," Wesker said, his voice oddly calm given the situation.

Chris studied Wesker a moment, seeing the exhaustion in his eyes and the bruising of his jaw where Chris had punched him earlier. He was about to go home and leave Wesker be, but that nagging feeling persisted and Chris found himself pushing his way into the apartment.

It was by no means easy- Wesker repeatedly slammed the door on Chris' side and tried to shove him out numerous times before Chris got the upper hand and slid through the door and into the man's apartment.

He didn't have time to bask in the fact that he had made it in on account of his body being roughly slammed against a wall, arms pushed behind his back and held between a pair of strong hands.

"Fuck- what's all this for? I only came here to talk!" Chris cried out, trying to push his chest off of the wall only to be stopped by Wesker's body.

"I apologize if I am a little less than inviting when a man forces himself into my apartment after hitting me only a few hours ago," Wesker said, hot breath sliding across Chris' cheek.

"J-just let me go, okay? I promise I wont hit."

There was a pause, no man speaking or moving before Wesker let go. Stepping back from Chris, Wesker let him turn around and rub his wrists before punching Chris quickly- knocking his head to the side as his fist connected to his cheekbone.

"W-what the hell?" Chris cried out, cupping his cheek as he looked at Wesker, eyes wide.

"You said you weren't going to hit, but that doesn't mean I won't," he explained, shrugging slightly before he went in for another hit, only to have Chris dodge.

"This isn't fair, you bastard!" Chris dodged another hit, only to have Wesker counter with a kick to the man's shin. Hissing in pain, Chris grabbed at his bruising leg and shot Wesker a nasty look before making movement like he was going to attack him.

"I thought you said you wouldn't hit me," Wesker countered, watching Chris' fist fall to his side. Smirking, Wesker stepped back and gave Chris some space. "Still a man of your word despite being so angry… impressive."

"Fuck you- at least I have some fucking honour," Chris spat out, finding the urge to hit Wesker again ever-increasing.

"What is it you wanted to say- I'm tired and irritable, and frankly I can't stand the sight of you at the moment," Wesker said, not taking the bait.

"Why did you put me on leave? Why did you… why did you put me on leave for so long when you know I need this job, and when you know you need all the men you can get at the moment?"

"Simple- you're a liability at the moment- a renegade who can't be controlled. I need you to stand aside and look at your emotions before you come back, because if you don't I will fire you."

"You're heartless, you know that?" Chris said, rubbing his cheek as a bruise began to develop already.

"And yet you're still wishing to work alongside me… how odd." Wesker shrugged before looking at the door, indicating Chris should leave now.

"I don't just want to work with you, Wesker," Chris began, his emotions getting the better of him. He knew he shouldn't tell Wesker what he was going to say, but he couldn't stop himself- not now. "I want to be with you too."

Wesker raised an eyebrow, his attention going from the door to Chris in a split second. He looked like he was about to say something before Chris began again, desperate to get it all out now.

"I want to be with you on a physical level again as well as an emotional. I know I said I was fine with it being a one time thing- I know I said that but I didn't mean it. God, I k-keep… I keep thinking about you and I hate it, I hate that I want you so badly but I can't stop it. No matter how much I try I just can't.

"And it's not like I haven't tried- God, it's agonizing sometimes. I fucking hate it so much and I hate you, Wesker… I hate you but I want you at the same time. You're just so… so unattainable and I guess I've always wanted what I couldn't have."

Chris kept his gaze on Wesker the entire time, voice wavering with emotion. He was so annoyed at himself and at Wesker, and he knew he should be feeling something more- some sort of tender emotion, but he didn't. Again, it wasn't like in the movies where the confession ended in crying and smiles- this one was forced and painful, anger and bitterness evident in Chris' voice and posture.

Wesker stayed silent throughout Chris' confession, a guarded wall put up between the two of them through distance. When Chris was finished they stood looking at each other, tension radiating off of their bodies.

"What do you want me to do?" Wesker asked after a moment.

"I… I don't know, I just… I just want…" Growling with frustration, Chris grabbed Wesker's face between his hands and kissed him, pressing his body close against Wesker's stiff form.

As soon as their lips made contact, Wesker jerked back and tried to pull away before pushing Chris up against the wall, breaking the kiss with a snarl. "You split my lip earlier and now you just broke it open again."

Chris looked down at Wesker's lip, seeing a bit of blood bead upwards along the split. He slid one hand off of Wesker's cheek and went to touch the wound gently before Wesker moved his head away and pushed back to land an ill-placed hit on his stomach.

Chris let out a large puff of air and tried to curl in on himself as the wind was knocked out of him, before Wesker grabbed his jaw and made him submit to another kiss. Coughing into the kiss, Chris opened his mouth and tried to pull away this time, only to have Wesker shove his tongue into his mouth and glide over all of his weak spots.

Grabbing on to the blonde's shirt, Chris alternated between trying to shove Wesker off of him and trying to pull him close, unsure of what he really wanted.

Finally breaking the heated kiss, Wesker stayed pressed against Chris, a thin strand of spit connecting their lips. A moment between them passed, eyes locking before Chris looked down and started to rip at Wesker's shirt, wanting the garment off.

Wesker helped with removing it, and Chris shoved it down his shoulders and off onto the floor where his t-shirt soon followed. With their bare chests pressed together, Chris let himself be shoved against the wall once more, a leg wrapping around Wesker's slim waist to keep him close.

Tilting his head back, Chris moaned as Wesker left a trail of kisses and sharp bites down his neck, back arching against the wall. A stray hand wandered down and caressed the curve of Chris' ass before squeezing with more force than necessary.

Pushing himself off of the wall, Chris moved to kiss Wesker again, tongues battling for dominance as the two men moved from the entryway into the living room. They stumbled and grabbed at each other, looking for purchase as they tried to make it down the hallway and into the bedroom while still kissing and caressing, calloused hands dancing across skin and muscle.

One miss-step due to Wesker's hand palming Chris' groin caused him to pitch forward and into Wesker, who was ill prepared to keep the two of them up. Breaking the kiss just in time, they fell down onto the floor in the living room, Chris landing on top of Wesker with little grace.

Wesker let out a soft sound of discomfort as Chris slowly raised himself up above him, eyes heavy lidded as the two of them looked at each other. Blonde hair had come out of its usual hold, and rested against pale skin and across grey eyes that were boring holes into Chris.

Thin lips were open, breathing slightly laboured as delicate fingers came up to grasp Chris' forearm, nails digging in. Wesker looked so… vulnerable lying under him, his chest heaving and rising with Chris' own as he recovered from the fall.

A moment passed between the two before Wesker's eyes narrowed into thin slits.

"Whatever you're thinking, stop it," he growled out, trying to shove Chris off of him. Snorting, Chris locked his arms and stayed planted above Wesker, slowly grinding down on the man under him.

Letting out a gasp, Wesker stilled a moment before he renewed his struggle. "I'm not interested in having you on top of me like this." As he began to struggle again, Chris saw a moment of desperation in his eyes- vulnerability where there probably was none.

Letting his arms relaxed, Chris moved with Wesker as the older man pushed him over so he was on his back, naked skin sticking to hardwood floors. Kissing Chris with a ferocious lust behind it, Wesker ground painfully against Chris, making him cry out into Wesker's mouth- a hand coming up to tangle in blonde locks. Tugging at the fine hair, Wesker pulled back and groaned softly, pale neck stretched before Chris.

Moving upwards, he captured the skin under Wesker's chin in a kiss, sucking before biting down, feeling his Captain shudder above. Pale fingers gripped Chris' jaw painfully, twisting his head to the side and away from his neck- once again taking away any control Chris had on the situation.

Chris wanted to ask Wesker why he wouldn't allow any domination to take place, but bit his tongue while Wesker sat up and began undressing him the rest of the way, shoes being thrown carelessly across the immaculate living room. He didn't understand it- didn't see why Wesker was so afraid to lose that control for just a moment. He had pretty much bared his soul to him just mere moments ago, yet Wesker wouldn't even let him control certain aspects of their coupling.

Growling, Chris slapped Wesker's hands away and decided to take his pants off himself, eyes defiantly locking with Wesker's before they came off and were pushed away. Wesker smirked and tilted his head to the side while a palm came and slowly rubbed Chris' cock through boxers- teasing him.

Bucking into Wesker's hand, Chris' head dropped back to rest between his shoulder blades, elbows and forearms holding him up as Wesker's fingers moved into Chris' boxers to tease his balls.

"A-anyone ever tell you that you're a fucking tease?" Chris asked, breathing laboured and unsteady. Wesker growled softly, the low and sultry sound carrying to Chris like an aphrodisiac.

Taking his hand out of Chris' boxers, Wesker removed the garment quickly before spreading Chris' legs, shoving them to the side roughly while he moved upwards to kiss down Chris' neck.

Moaning, Chris kept himself propped up and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of Wesker's tongue and teeth moving down his neck and chest, stopping to suck on a nipple.

Chris had completely lost it by now, his body on fire and nerves completely frayed- open to all sensations. He hadn't expected Wesker to do this with him again, hadn't expected to be so intimate with the man who owned his body now. Back in October he thought he had lost any chances with Wesker; that by saying he agreed it should be a one time thing he had thrown away the possibility of experiencing this again.

But clearly that was not the case and Chris intended on enjoying it all- surrendering himself to that primal urge to rut and not think about the consequences of his actions. He was still upset with Wesker, still angry and betrayed, but dear god, Wesker's tongue was making that hard.

Snapping back to reality, Chris looked down his body to see Wesker was going lower, tongue delving into his bellybutton in a teasing manner. Chris groaned softly and titled his head to the side, wondering what Wesker had planned.

What he had planned was certainly something Chris never expected.

Bypassing Chris' aching cock for the moment, Wesker spread Chris' legs wide and gripped his thighs with bruising force as his tongue slid across his sac, making Chris jump from shock. Wesker tongued his balls thoroughly before lifting his head to run along the main vein of Chris' dick, his hands sliding down to grasp Chris' hips- preventing any movement from the stunned man.

Looking down his form, Chris watched with fascination as Wesker sucked the head of his dick, concentration and desire evident on the man's features, blonde strands covering his eyes. Chris had always thought of a blowjob being done by the submissive, an act that exuded submission and obedience. But the way Wesker was controlling him made Chris feel even more like the docile one.

Wesker conducted how much Chris moved, when he would make a sound, and how much pleasure he would feel with just his skilled tongue. Dropping down on to the floor, Chris cried out loudly as Wesker took him fully into his mouth, tongue doing amazing things to his cock.

Whimpering when Wesker's head finally lifted, Chris lay on the floor, eyes squeezed shut as the image of Wesker's head between his spread legs imprinted itself upon his mind. Hearing some shuffling, Chris opened his eyes and looked up to see Wesker had undressed himself and was pressing himself between his thighs, a welcome feeling to Chris.

Kissing him deeply, Wesker made Chris taste himself upon his tongue- their spit mixing together as they ground together, cocks rubbing and sliding against each other. Finding purchase on Wesker's ass, Chris kneaded the strong muscles under his hand while pushing against him, desperate for the contact.

They broke their kiss after it began to grow uncomfortable, and Wesker pressed his cheek against Chris', hot breath sticking on the side of his face and ear. Bringing a hand between them, Chris grasped both of their dicks in his hand, sliding them together.

Touching another man's cock was still strange to Chris, but strange only in the fact that it was so satisfying to him. It felt silky and warm, an erotic feeling in such a situation. It also helped that it was Wesker's member he was touching; that a strong and independent man like Wesker was practically purring against his ear.

With the sounds Wesker was making and the feeling of flesh against flesh, he knew he wasn't going to last long and continued to pump their member's together, pre-cum and Wesker's spit adding to the lubrication.

Chris came first, his semen spilling into his hand with a loud cry, back arching and body shuddering against Wesker's as he rode out his orgasm- hand becoming shaky and unsteady.

Wesker continued to ride against Chris through his orgasm and after, his dick still achingly hard and in need of release. Using his free hand to massage Wesker's back, Chris continued to pump Wesker's cock- fingers gliding over the head before sliding down to cup his balls, gently tugging and massaging them before going back to his member.

He didn't know what it took to get another guy off, but he figured he would play with Wesker just like how he touched himself. One dick was pretty much like the other in many ways- or that's what Chris figured.

Wesker's breathing became heavier and faster against his ear, and Chris pressed his body close as the older male finally climaxed, a long purr accompanying the action as his semen coated Chris' fingers and stomach in long spurts, hips grinding against Chris' hand.

As soon as he was finished, Wesker collapsed on top of Chris, his arms giving out on him. Lying between Chris' legs, the two men stayed on the living room floor- breathing heavy and laboured as they basked in the afterglow.

Minutes passed, and Chris kept expecting Wesker to move away from him like last time- only he didn't. They just stayed together, bodies still intimately pressed close together.

"I'm still angry at you…" Wesker finally muttered, his face buried in the crook of Chris' neck. "And you're still on leave for a month with no pay."

"And I'm still angry at you, so I guess it works out," Chris said, one arm going to rest beside his head as his other stayed wrapped around Wesker's body. "And I'm still serious when I say I want to be with you."

Lifting his head up from Chris' neck, Wesker peered down at Chris for a moment, eyes unusually soft before they went back to their normal indifference.

"As you wish," he said before getting up and off of Chris. Sitting down beside him, Wesker peered out the window of his apartment- the curtains drawn back to show the snow-filled park.

"As you wish? You mean… you mean that we can… you know," Chris began, looking at the way Wesker's jaw caught the light- his gorgeous profile illuminated thanks to the light from the living room and from outside contrasting, making it stand out to Chris.

"I never said anything about starting a relationship, Christopher. I don't know about calling each other boyfriend or partner… but I would not be opposed to doing this with you on a regular basis."

Chris snorted and looked away, a hand coming down to lazily scratch his stomach, only to come across the semen that lay across his bronze skin. Sitting up with some difficulty, Chris stayed beside Wesker, the two battered and bruised men both looking outside at the falling snow- silence once again blanketing them.

They were complete opposites, in both appearance and personalities. And yet they mixed well together- complimented each other even when they felt like they were the worst match in the world.

Resting gently against Wesker, Chris pressed their shoulders together and let out a soft sigh, exhaustion overcoming him.

In the morning he would probably hate himself for giving into Wesker so easily… but for now… well, for now he was content with simply being close to a man he both hated and admired at the same time.

He hoped Wesker would come to feel the same way over time.

* * *

_Violence, punchy punch, and then FROTTING! Oh yeah, and a blowjob! There we go guys, Chris and Wesker are officially together. You've waited patiently, and you finally get your reward! Of course, this doesn't mean smooth sailing for our star crossed lovers, but it does mean they'll be doing the horizontal tango more often- if you know what I mean. Anyways, once again I would ask if you guys could go read the contest rules, and then ENTER! Because we need more WeskerxChris lovin's. I just hope that the prizes are to your liking! And again, THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! You guys are seriously blowing my mind away with how totally amazing you are. Truly, I appreciate your support a lot. Thank you!_


	19. Family

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Nothin!  
_

**Authors Note: **I just want everyone who read the rules to the contest to go over them again, because I made a typo on the EMAIL of all things. Yeah, I spelt my own email incorrectly. So if you could just re-read the email again and send it to that address, I would really appreciate it... oy vey! With that aside, I just want to thank you all again for the awesome reviews and feedback you're giving me! Seriously, I wish I could send all of you cookies or something! I guess you'll have to make due with another chapter, though... So here it is!

* * *

**Chapter 19- Family**

_Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.~Dr. Seuss~  
_

"I think she grew out of her polka-dot dress stage when she was eleven."

Standing in the middle of a huge department store in the women's clothing section, Chris held out a white and red polka-dot dress with ribbons sewn on the back, a style that would have no doubt been fabulous back in the early 1950's but had since moved out of fashion. His aunt Lily stood before him, arms crossed over her chest as she lamented the fact that Chris had no fashion sense at all.

It was just a little over two weeks before Christmas, and Chris was being forced to go shopping for a gift for Claire when he figured he had already gotten her a perfectly acceptable one. His aunt, unfortunately, did not agree with his choice and dragged him out of the comfort of the family home and into town to look through all of the latest ladies' fashions.

After being put on leave for a month, Chris packed up his bags and went to his aunt and uncle's for the holidays- trying to make the best of the situation. He was still upset with the fact that he wasn't working, but his leave couldn't have really come at a better time. Now he was able to visit his aunt and uncle, as well as see Claire when she could finally come down after final exams.

"Well, I think Claire will like it…" Chris mumbled, shoving it back on the rack with a heavy sigh.

"Do you really think she'll like it, or are you just trying to pick something quickly so that you don't have to shop all day?" his aunt asked.

"Well we wouldn't have to be shopping if you just agreed with the gift I got her in the first place," Chris said, following his aunt to another set of clothing racks.

"A knife is not a gift for your sister, Chris. It's a gift for a hunter or an outdoors man."

"But it's a STARS issued knife- made especially for the Redfield clan! Besides, it comes with a handy case and everything so she can carry it around and not get hurt! Think if it as a self defence gift- a gift that keeps on giving." Chris moved out of the way of a disgruntled shopper and tried not to jut his bottom lip out too much in an obvious pout as his aunt gave him a level stare.

"How about we come to a compromise- you can still give Claire the knife, but you also have to give her another gift, a nice one and something a girl would appreciate."

"…Fine… but just remember, Claire's a tough girl and she doesn't like super girly things," Chris said, trying to remind his aunt that although she was female, she loved motorcycles and explosions.

"Yes, and I need to remind you that you have horrible fashion sense," she said as Chris fiddled with the sleeve of some baby blue sweater monstrosity.

"Fashion isn't that important to me… I leave that up to my Captain," Chris said without really realizing it. His aunt perked up when he said Captain, and he soon realized he would have to elaborate. "My Captain Wesker's always wearing the latest men's fashion- sharp fitting suits and dress shirts all the time… but he's into that sort of thing."

"You know, since you arrived back home for the holidays I've heard you talk all about your other teammates, yet you barely elaborate on your Captain," she said as she dragged Chris away from the horrible sweaters and towards some nice, simple dresses she thought looked good for spring fashion.

"What's there to say? He's my Captain and he likes sunglasses."

Truth be told, Chris didn't want to talk about Wesker in fear he might let something slip, if not through his words, then through his actions. He had begun to miss Wesker since he left a week ago, and he was afraid if he talked about Wesker too much he'd begin to look and sound like a love-sick puppy. After seeing the man almost every day for months on end, it was strange to know he wasn't going to be going to work to see the man sitting behind his desk, an irritated look accompanying his good morning greetings as Chris stumbled in five minutes late.

At the same time, he was beginning to miss the intimacy with Wesker that he had just managed to re-capture. As soon as he had been given the okay that they could continue with their relationship, he was dragged away to spend the holidays with his family. While Chris loved hanging out with his aunt and uncle, he wished at the same time he could also run his hands through short blonde locks while being embraced against a wall, strong hands ripping open his pants to grab his aching cock in a tight hold, teeth biting along his neck and—

"Chris, are you alright?" His aunt's worried face came into view, and Chris had to snap himself quickly out of the daze he had put himself into.

"Uh, yeah, sorry… just getting hungry, I guess."

Hungry for a certain blonde man, that was.

"Well let's go get lunch and maybe go to a different store. Maybe you could buy Claire a nice pair of shoes?" she suggested, a worried smile gracing her features as she led Chris out of the store.

"Yeah, okay, that sounds great," Chris eagerly agreed, quite ready to sit down and eat something while _not_ thinking about sex.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Wow… you all look so… professional."

Sitting in the living room on the couch, Chris and Claire were cuddled under blankets as snow fell outside in the middle of the night, carpeting the ground in a heavy mass of the powdery white stuff that was sure to cause some transportation issues tomorrow. But that didn't matter, because Claire had arrived later that evening before the snow began to fall and no one was really looking to go anywhere. Finally the entire family was together again after months of separation.

"Well it was done a few weeks ago to showcase the teams properly- it's mostly going to be used for press releases and other random things," he said, resting his arm on the back of the couch while Claire looked at the picture of STARS- all of them lined up in their official gear, smiles gracing most (but not all) of the members' features.

"So… can you point them all out to me?" she asked, passing the picture off to Chris, who held it carefully in the corner.

"Well, the right half is Alpha team while the left is Bravo," Chris began, pointing to the sides before he began going in order. "We have Edward Dewey, Forest Speyer, Kenneth Sullivan, Richard Aiken, Joseph Frost, and finally Enrico Marini on the side of Bravo Team. And on Alpha team we have Jill Valentine, Brad Vickers, Barry Burton, Albert Wesker, and finally… me!"

Chris smiled and passed the photo back to Claire, who continued to look through all of the members, a smile also playing at her lips. Chris was elated to see how proud Claire looked. Despite being the older one, Chris lived off of his sister's approval, constantly trying to prove his worth to the one person who mattered the most to him. So to see Claire so happy for him was what really made this holiday season for Chris.

"I'm still amazed, Chris… you guys look like a really good team- although I feel sort of sorry for Jill, seeing as how she's the only girl." Laughing softly, she watched as Chris nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, well she holds her own. She could probably kick all of our asses in one go if she really wanted to."

"That's my kind of girl- someone who can finally kick your ass!" she said, laughing as Chris rolled his eyes and snatched the photo back.

"Yeah, well, she wouldn't because she's nice and kind, completely unlike you." Sticking his tongue out, Chris tossed the photo on the coffee table and stretched before flinching after Claire kicked his side gently. "See! You just proved how heartless you are by kicking your big brother."

Rolling her eyes, Claire curled further into her blanket and ran a hand through her messy hair. "So… do you like Jill?"

"Yeah, she's pretty cool… why?"

"Well I don't know… it's just for all I know you're still single and… well…" Claire shrugged and sent Chris a winning smile, knowing he knew what she was getting at.

Yes, Chris did know what she was getting at, and be damned if he knew how to answer it.

"Uh, well… no, you see, I think she's already got someone she's interested in… and it's not me. B-besides, she's not really my type."

"Not your type? Come on, Chris, she looks cute and you said she could hold her own!"

Chewing at his bottom lip, Chris rubbed the back of his neck, deciding how to best go about this. He wasn't going to tell her about Wesker- that would be bad. It wasn't that he didn't think Claire would be okay with it (he actually didn't know her stance on homosexuality, but he figured she was so open-minded it wasn't an issue), but he didn't know if it was something he should mention, especially given the nature of his and Wesker's relationship outside of the bedroom.

"I like blondes," he finally said, shrugging. "She's not blonde, so, you know…"

"That's a stupid reason," Claire shot back, but seemed to back off with the questions when she rested her head on the back of the couch, eyes falling shut.

"You should go to bed. You look dead tired," he said, letting her take up most of the space on the couch.

"Nah, I don't wanna go to bed yet. I just got here and I missed talking to you like this."

"I'm not leaving tomorrow, Claire. We have almost two weeks together."

"Yeah, but those two weeks will just fly by and I'll only be left with your occasional phone calls…"

Sighing, Chris fiddled with the edge of one of the pillows on the sofa, frowning.

Silence took hold of them for a while, both in their own little worlds before Chris decided to break the silence. Standing up, Chris shuffled off, telling Claire he'd be back in a second, and took off upstairs where he went to his duffle bag under the guest bed.

Taking the thin and long white box out of the bottom, Chris tapped it against the palm of his hand a few times, wondering if he should give Claire her gift right now. It was two weeks before Christmas, but he wanted to teach Claire how to use it, which would take more than the day they would have after Christmas before Chris had to go back to Raccoon City.

Deciding he would go forward with his idea, Chris took the box with him back downstairs and into the living room where Claire was sitting, a dazed look on her face.

"You fall asleep for those minutes I was gone?" Chris asked, ruffling her already messy hair.

"No, I was just dozing," she replied, watching Chris sit down with the box in his hand. "What's that all about?"

"It's for you- an early Christmas present."

"Why are you giving this to me now?" she asked, taking the object with care as Chris sat back on the couch.

"Because I need to teach you how to use it, so we need these two weeks to do that." Winking, Chris watched as Claire gave it a suspicious look before opening it slowly. Sitting in the middle of the box was a knife concealed by a brown leather case, the grooved black handle sticking out of it. Picking it up with care, Claire moved it around in her hand before removing it from its sheath to reveal a long, perfectly polished blade with the STARS logo etched on the bottom, catching the light every so often.

"Oh, wow… Chris, it's… beautiful."

Chris _knew_ she would like it- her aunt just didn't understand girls sometimes…

"So you like it?" he asked, watching as Claire moved the blade around slowly, looking at the grooves and sharp angles carefully.

"Oh, Chris, I love it!" Smiling, she put the blade back in its leather sheath and went to hug Chris tightly, a kiss on the cheek accompanying the action. "Thank you so much."

"No problem," Chris said as they pulled away. "See, now we need those two weeks to properly train you on how to use a knife like this effectively. Never know when you're going to have to use some sort of self defence moves, right?"

"We're going to practice outside in the snow?" Claire asked, eyes wide as she looked outside to see more snow piling up.

"Yup, it's the only way! But hey, soon enough I'll be having you throw that knife perfectly in order to hit something in the head if you need to… like a zombie!"

Laughing, Claire nodded and hugged Chris once again. Early Christmas gifts were the best.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"So… another successful Christmas come and gone."

Looking over at his uncle, Chris nodded from his position at the kitchen island counter, a half eaten chocolate cookie in his hand. It was getting late and after the long Christmas dinner clean-up and subsequent 'family time', the ladies of the house had retired to their bedrooms to sleep off the food and excitement from all of the present-opening earlier in the morning.

"Yup, I'd say it went by well. Claire liked her new clothes, books, and shoes, Aunt Lily liked her fancy smelling soaps and soft bathrobe, and you liked your new tools and shaving kit." Finishing his cookie, Chris brushed his hands together to dust off the crumbs before leaning against the counter across from his uncle.

"I hope you like those new boots we got yah- we figured you'd already have a nice pair but that these would breathe better for when you have to work in the spring and summer heat," Sam said, tossing a Christmas orange from one hand to the other.

"No, they're perfect! I love them a lot, and you're right that they will come in handy. I also like the new shirts you guys got me; I don't have nearly enough dress shirts I can be seen somewhat put together in."

Sam hummed in agreement and put the orange back in the bowl before leaning his hip against the counter. They both looked outside for a while, the light from the moon catching the snow on the ground, making it appear brighter outside than it actually was.

"So I'm heading back on the 27th… back to Raccoon City to try and get back into the swing of things," Chris said, making his uncle snort.

"Just don't go pissing anyone else off, alright? I know this was a nice vacation for you, but don't be trying that again- I think your boss will fire you the next time." Despite the joking tone in his voice, Chris knew that his uncle was somewhat serious. He wanted what was best for his nephew, and Chris wasn't making that very possible at the moment with his current attitude and record at work.

"I actually think he'll kill me and then fire my dead body," Chris said, making his uncle laugh.

Scratching his bearded chin, Sam nodded and took a moment before looking at Chris carefully. "You're awfully fond of your Captain… Wesker was his name, right?"

Well that was an unexpected turn in the conversation. Chris sometimes wondered if his uncle could read people's minds.

"Y-yeah, that's his name. And he's just a good Captain, I guess. I admire men who can lead even though they sometimes piss me off. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just trying to open up the conversation about him, seeing as how he's directly in control of your actions. You've got trouble with authority, and I don't want you to mess things up with him and lose your job."

"Yeah… that makes sense. I think we've got a stable partnership though… I mean, sometimes I don't agree with him, but in his own way I think he… respects that? I don't know, but he understands me and I understand him- it works well." Chris looked down at the counter, deeply fascinated with the way the cracks in the granite make patterns of their own.

He was tempted to tell his uncle- tell him everything about his relationship with Wesker. Maybe his uncle… maybe his uncle would give him advice. He was the only man Chris really trusted with this sort of thing, especially seeing as how he was the only direct link to his parents he had besides Claire. Maybe if he told someone about it- someone closer than he and Mindy were- he could begin to accept it as more than something that had to be hidden and secretive.

"I… well… Wesker and I… we're… in a relationship," Chris finally said, voice low and eyes downcast as he swirled his finger along the top of the counter, following the patterns. When he didn't hear his uncle say anything, he raised his head and looked at the man before him, face unreadable.

"Relationship… as in…" Sam's voice was low, a gruffness in there that hadn't been apparent before.

"Yeah… as in physical," Chris said, trying to own his words. Swallowing thickly, Chris could see the colour in his uncle's cheeks rise- pink replacing his regular skin tone. Maybe this had been a mistake.

"Chris… I… I don't know what to say other than you've gotten yourself in a right fucking mess." There was anger in his voice, but it was controlled and reigned in. Chris figured that if Claire and his aunt weren't asleep upstairs right now, his uncle would be dangerously close to yelling.

"It's not a mess," Chris said, standing up straight as he looked at his uncle. Despite seeming strong, Chris could feel his knees about to give way.

If his uncle didn't accept…

"Yes it is, Chris. Firstly, this man is… this man is your boss. He's your superior and you work under… you work below… you work for him, alright!" His uncle was clearly struggling with what he was saying, perverse thoughts seeming to invade his thought process as he stumbled over terms. Chris felt like dying right now. "Secondly… it's wrong, Chris. Two men shouldn't belong together- a relationship like that is between a man and a woman, not two men. Not to mention Wesker is so much older than you."

"Only thirteen—" Chris began, only to have his uncle slam his fist down on top of the counter, making the container holding different spoons and cooking utensils rattle.

"Thirteen years is a lot, and that doesn't excuse this… this perversion you're committing with this man. Jesus Christ, Chris… do you have to make everything difficult for yourself and your family?"

"I don't see how you're all included in this. This is my life and my body, and I can do what I want with it," Chris said, embarrassment showing on his cheeks mixed with anger and bitterness. He wasn't about to have his uncle, no matter how much he loved him, tell him what he could and could not do.

"Whether you like it or not, you're responsible for the people in your life- including your family. How are… how are you supposed to find a stable relationship with another man- have kids, get married, and carry on the family line? Don't you owe your parents that much, to have kids and continue the Redfield family?"

Chris bit his tongue to keep himself from yelling and instead took a few steady breaths, the taste of copper becoming apparent in his mouth. "I think my parents would be a little more accepting than you're being. B-besides, you're talking like I'm going to be with Wesker for the rest of my life."

"Do you plan to be?" his uncle shot out quickly, making Chris want to physically back away from all of the hostility his uncle was displaying.

"N-no… I mean yes… no, I don't know! It's just something fun right now- something I want to try. I don't know where it will go, but I never know where anything will go! That's what life is about though, right? Trying new things and seeing where that path will take you!"

There was silence, both of them looking at each other. Chris was desperate at this point in time to have his uncle say it was okay, that it wasn't perverse what he was doing and it was okay to do this and that it didn't matter if he was with a man or a woman because he was still the same person.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to hear such ill-founded, homophobic, hate-filled messages from someone he loved. You aren't supposed to tell someone that you care about how horrible they are for what they do- you are supposed to accept them no matter what…

But instead of making it all right, his uncle shook his head and moved to leave the kitchen, not looking at Chris.

"Don't expect me to follow and support you on this path, Chris… just don't."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

It was early in the morning and Chris found himself shoving all of his clothes, gifts, and other assorted objects in his duffle bag with more force than necessary. Claire sat on his bed, watching him move from one end of the bedroom to the other in search of items he had unpacked and moved into a corner or onto a desk.

"Why won't you tell me why you're leaving a day early?" Claire asked after ten minutes of just watching.

"I just… it doesn't matter. I need to get back a day early anyways in order to get things settled again before I start work. I heard rumours of a police New Year's Gala taking place that I have to attend. It's going to be fancy and I don't have a tux, so I should rent one."

"You and Uncle Sam are the same size so why not borrow his?" Claire suggested, trying to stop Chris from leaving. Only what she said made Chris angrier, and he zipped up his duffle bag with more force than necessary.

"He's got a bigger gut than I do- it'd be too baggy in the shirt and waist department." Swinging the bag over his shoulder, Chris left the room with Claire trailing behind- that usual bounce in her step missing.

Taking two steps at a time down, Chris saw his aunt standing near the door, a weary smile on her face.

"Are you sure you won't stay another day?" she asked as Chris went to put his shoes and jacket on. Either his uncle hadn't told her, or she was good at hiding what she did know. It didn't matter to Chris at this point in time. The damage was done and he couldn't stand being in the house anymore.

"I would love to, but I should be going. Thanks so much for everything, Aunt Lily- I had an awesome holiday this year and I hope to be back sometime in the spring to see you, okay?"

Nodding, his aunt grabbed him into a tight hug and kissed his cheek before holding onto him for a little while longer. Once they had pulled away, Chris was once again embraced, this time by Claire.

"Stay strong for me at school, alright? And remember to always keep your eye on the target," Chris mumbled while Claire just nodded, refusing to let go until Chris finally untangled himself. Ruffling her hair once again for good measure, Chris was almost out the door when he saw his uncle standing inside the doorway of the basement, covered in sawdust from his woodworking shop that had been set up in the basement.

A moment passed between them in which they both gave each other a level stare. Nodding his head once in acknowledgment, Sam then turned around and went back into the basement while Chris turned around to leave the house for the last time.

"Call both of us more often, okay?" Claire called as Chris trudged down the walkway to his parked jeep.

Turning around, Chris saluted the two women standing at the door before hopping into his jeep to finally go home.

It had been an eventful holiday- one that left Chris with a hell of a lot of questions he didn't want to answer. One thing he did know for sure, though, was that he would need to rent a tux soon.

* * *

_ Yeah... so the interaction between Chris and his uncle didn't go over so well, did it? Like I said, homosexuality isn't all super happy joy joy in America, and there will be some ignorance that Chris is going to have to get over. The conversation between Chris and his uncle was actually based upon a conversation I had with my Grandmother, only she was upset with my SISTERS lesbian lifestyle and decided to tell me all about it... -sigh- But, another chapter done! I know this one didn't have any WeskerxChris interaction, but trust me, the next chapter will have some awesome scenes with them... well, at least I think they're awesome! And again- thanks for the reviews/favorites/etc. I really, really appreciate it!_


	20. Advice

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note: **Once again, I gotta thank ALL of you who read this story. Last month (June) I had over 1,000 readers for this story alone, so I owe all of you who have taken the time to read it a great deal. You're all awesome, and I hope you are enjoying the story as much I enjoy writing it! In other news, I haven't had a lot of entires for the contest, so I hope that all of you who said you would join are working on your masterpieces! Can't wait to see what you guys come up with! And finally, I hope you enjoy this chapter!_  
_

* * *

**Chapter 20- Advice**

_The only thing to do with good advice is pass it on. It is never any use to oneself. ~Oscar Wilde~_

Chris stood outside the RPD, a smoke dangling from his lips as he stared down the double doors, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Footsteps were heard to his right before a familiar weight landed over his shoulder, accompanied with an amused chuckle. Without having to turn his head to look, Chris knew who it was.

"Are you ever going to go inside?" Forest asked, gently shaking Chris from side to side. Shrugging his arm off, Chris took another puff of his smoke and continued to stare at the door.

"I don't know… kinda enjoyed not working."

"Bet you don't enjoy having no money, though."

It was odd when Forest was the voice of reason.

"Yeah… hey, know if the Captain is still angry?" Although the two of them had slept together and come to an agreement as to their relationship, Chris had a feeling Wesker was still upset with him in regards to the whole work fiasco. Wesker knew how to hold grudges; that was something Chris had worked out about him right away.

"Dunno, he didn't say a lot to Bravo team after the incident and he's been out of town for the past week on a business trip. A business trip on Christmas- can you believe it?" Forest clicked his tongue and shook his head before going to stand in front of Chris, snapping him out of his staring contest with the door.

"Is he still out of town?" Chris asked, suddenly a little more interested in the conversation.

Forest nodded and grabbed the smoke out of Chris' mouth, throwing it down on the ground before stomping on it. "We don't know when he's coming back, but it better be in time for the New Year's Gala, which is in… two days. Awe, shit."

"Dreading it?" Chris asked, a laugh escaping from between his lips while the two of them went into the station.

"You have no idea. It's going to be a lot of dancing, eating crappy food, listening to speeches, and playing nice with the officials in the city who could probably pull some strings and get you executed if you piss them off," Forest said, dread dripping off of every syllable.

"You're just upset because you probably can't find a date to go with you," Chris shot back, bracing himself for the inevitable punch that would lay waste to his arm. Instead though, Forest laughed and shook his head.

"Nah, all the girls I know are too smart to fall into a trap like that! I date the intelligent ones."

"Well _someone_ has got to have the brains in the relationship."

That was when the punch came.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

The playful banter between the two was carried throughout the hallways of the station until they arrived at their offices. Chris was about to say goodbye to Forest, who seemed to be heading to Bravo team's area, but instead he stopped to say something quickly.

"Jill has been eager to talk to you, so be prepared for some question and answer time with the lovely Valentine." Winking, Forest patted Chris on the back before continuing on his way, leaving Chris with a tight feeling in his chest.

With everything that had gone on during the holidays and with his uncle, Chris had forgotten that he hadn't spoken to Jill at all since the incident that almost got him fired and her killed.

Would she be angry that he jeopardized the mission, or would she feel like she owed Chris for what he did when all he wanted to do was help her out?

Either way the prospects weren't entirely pleasing, and Chris was considering going home- after all, he wasn't due back for another day. But the fact that he liked to think he had a nice set of balls prevented him from hightailing it out of there and back home to the comfort of his bed.

Swinging the office door open, Chris was greeted to an empty office save Jill, who was sitting reading the newspaper, elbows on her desk as she scanned the 'Local News' section.

The creak of the opened door seemed to have alerted her to Chris' presence, and as soon as she saw him she stood up quickly, her chair moving back violently against Chris'. The crash of their chairs together made both of them jump, and Chris shut the door a little more quietly than he normally would have.

"Hey… how are you?" Chris asked, going to stand in the middle of the room as Jill straightened out their chairs.

"Good- actually I'm really good now that I get to talk to you… you just kind of took off all of a sudden and I wanted to talk to you all holiday." Jill smiled awkwardly and went to stand in front of Chris,

"Sorry, I was put on leave for… well, I think you know why."

"Is it because you saved my life in a reckless but slightly heroic stunt?" Jill cocked her head to the side, an inquisitive look about her before she smiled once again.

"Heh… thanks for calling it heroic…"

Well at least _someone_ appreciated his heroics…

"Don't get me wrong, I still think it was kind of stupid… but I appreciate that you would risk something like that to get me out of danger- it lets me know you've got my back," Jill said, sticking her hand out for Chris to shake it. "Thanks, Chris… I really… well, I appreciate it a lot."

Taking her smaller hand in his own, Chris shook it firmly and smiled as Jill applied the same amount of pressure.

"I'll always have your back, don't you worry about that," Chris said as their hands separated.

"And I'll have yours too… just don't expect me to get quite the same momentum tackling a guy like you did- that was pretty impressive how you got him to fly across the hallway like that." Brushing a piece of hair behind her ear, Jill patted Chris on the arm before Barry opened the door to the office, a grin on his features.

"Well look who's back! We were beginning to wonder if Captain Wesker had killed yah!" Barry said, his heavy voice carrying through the office- snapping the two of them out of their 'moment'.

"I thought he might after I punched him, but I ran away before he could retaliate."

"Wait, you punched him?" Jill said, her eyes wide as she looked at Chris, not believing what he had just said.

"Not… hard." With the way gossip spread between the two teams, Chris figured this would have been common news by now. Sometimes Chris felt more like he was working with a bunch of high school girls with the way news spread among the members.

But maybe the gossip train had since moved on…

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"So you were there when the crazy guy started spouting off everyone's dirty secrets, right?"

Leaning far in so he was crouching over the round table in the break room, Forest looked at Chris over his evening coffee. Kenneth and Edward, who were also sitting at the table, began chewing on their snacks slowly, eyes glancing over to Chris as if they knew where this was going.

The entire day was rather uneventful for everyone, with Chris getting caught up on the month's events and other assorted pieces of information- so he and a few members from Bravo team decided to enjoy some sludge-like coffee together before they left for the day.

"Uh… yeah, I did, but you have to take what he said with a grain of salt," Chris mumbled, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Well, I know, but… well, is it true he said Wesker was… well, you know…" Moving his hand in a circle, Forest looked at Chris carefully as Edward and Kenneth seemed a little more interested in the conversation.

"No, I don't," Chris stated, his voice going flat. So much for the gossip train leaving.

"Gay."

Taking another sip of his coffee, Chris took those precious seconds to decide on what to say- either way he wanted the conversation to end as quickly as possible. With the issue of his uncle still fresh in his mind, Chris didn't really feel like talking about homosexual topics.

"I don't know- that's what the guy said but like I told you, you can't believe what he stated. You yourself just called him crazy. Anyways, do you guys all have tuxes to wear to the gala?"

Edward made it seem like he was about to say something before Forest interrupted, effectively shutting the man up.

"Yeah, I know, but don't you think it fits? Like, Wesker seems… _gay_- don't you think?"

"What do you mean 'seems gay'?" Edward asked, playing with the straw of his juice box- he refused to drink coffee.

Forest seemed, for once, at a loss for how to properly go about saying what he was just about to state- filling Chris with some sort of dread. Forest was never known for his tact, and if he went on like Chris figured he would, he might say something he would regret later. "Well, you know how some guys just… give off those vibes. Like, he always dresses well, keeps himself put together all the time… and you never see him talking to any women on a personal level- it's strictly professional."

"Just because he's not always thinking about sex with the woman he's talking to doesn't mean he likes to sleep with guys," Edward said, the conversation soon turning into one between the two different men only.

Kenneth was staying quiet the entire time, but Chris caught him giving him quick, worried glances every so often.

"No, I don't mean that! He's just never nice to them- it's like he doesn't want to be on their good side."

"So that just makes him misogynistic."

"What, who said that? I'm just saying he doesn't seem interested in girls, okay?"

"I still don't see how that would make him gay," Edward mumbled, brushing crumbs off of the table. "Besides, why does it matter- you got an issue with gay guys?"

Kenneth seemed more and more fascinated with Chris, and Chris started to grow more and more agitated with every passing second. The conversation was making him bite his tongue a few times, and Kenneth's quick glances weren't helping matters. What was his problem anyways?

"I don't have an issue with them as long as, you know… they don't hit on me. Like, it's alright if they butt fuck each other, but I don't want to know about it and I don't want them coming on to me."

"You flatter yourself too much," Edward said, rolling his eyes. "Just because a guy is gay doesn't mean he's going to try and fuck you- most of them have standards."

Forest leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "I'm just saying how I feel."

Meanwhile Kenneth was looking at Chris more and more, making him want to just ask him what the hell was his problem. That was until Chris remembered the Halloween party when he had accidentally 'come out' to Kenneth. Never mind the fact that Chris wasn't really gay (just bi-curious) he had said the gay word and Kenneth pretty much took it for face value (who wouldn't, really?).

"Hey Kenneth, you look finished with your coffee, wanna go?" Chris asked hopefully while Edward and Forest continued to debate. Chris didn't care to hear what other ignorant things one of his best friends had to say- he'd had enough of that bullshit to last him a lifetime.

As the saying went- it never rained but it poured.

Kenneth nodded and the two men packed up their snacks before leaving the room as quickly as possible. They walked a fair distance from the break room before Chris pulled Kenneth into a deserted briefing room, desperate to explain himself after months of letting Kenneth think he was gay.

"Uh…" Well that was a great start of explaining himself.

"I know what you're going to say, Chris, and you don't need to worry. I don't care that you're gay, I was just wondering if anyone else knew… what Forest was saying was pretty ignorant and I know you two are close, so I was wondering if you were okay with what he was saying..."

"N-no, I'm not gay, Kenneth," Chris said, trying to put on the brakes. "I'm not gay. When I said I was, I just got distracted by something. But I'm not gay… I just like women."

_And some men_.

"O-oh… well okay, if that's what you mean..." Kenneth seemed skeptical still, and gave Chris a wary look. "But if you are… it's still okay. And I won't tell anyone if you don't want to come out."

Chris could have hugged the man but refrained, especially given the current conversation. "No, I'm not… well, not fully. I'm… well I like some guys, but just… some."

"O-oh…well, uh, good luck with that?" Scratching the back of his head, Kenneth seemed just as lost as Chris was as to how the conversation was supposed to go.

"T-thanks… and don't tell anyone, please?"

"I promise."

The two stood awkwardly in front of each other before they both took a deep breath.

"Well I'm glad we had this chat," Chris blurted out as the two men hurried to the door.

"Yeah, me too… let's not have to do this again sometime."

"Sounds good to-" Chris was about to agree when he again saw a familiar face walking past the open door. The tight knot that had been in Chris' chest the entire time he had been at the RPD lifted as soon as he saw the familiar shades catch the light.

"Wesker, you're back," Kenneth said as Chris stared at his Captain, noticing the man was less composed than usual. His hair was still slicked back, glasses resting neatly on his nose, and he was dressed as pre-usual, but something about his stance made Chris worry.

Wesker looked exhausted.

"Oh, yes… I just returned a little while ago. I would have arrived sooner but the taxi I took from the airport got stuck in traffic," Wesker explained, his attention momentarily going to Chris.

"Well I hope it was a good trip… A-anyways, I best be off." Kenneth quickly excused himself, and Chris couldn't blame the man. After hearing about Chris going against orders, hitting Wesker, and then leaving for a month, Chris didn't really feel like sticking around either.

But of course, Wesker had this comfort surrounding him that kept Chris from trying to excuse himself as well- he had missed simply being in his presence.

"Christopher… you're back." When talking to Kenneth, Wesker sounded like he always did- assured and fully aware of what he was saying. But now Chris could hear weariness leaking into his voice.

"Yeah, I got back today and… I came to see you but you were out… You look tired."

"I'm fine, don't worry… but I believe we should talk soon. I have something I need to drop off to Chief Irons' office but then I will be free to speak for a short moment. Would you care to walk with me?"

Eagerly agreeing, Chris followed Wesker in silence as they headed to the office a short distance away. Waiting in the empty waiting room (it seemed like Mindy had gone home for the day) Chris watched the minutes roll by until a good fifteen minutes had passed when Wesker finally emerged from the illusive office of Chief Irons.

"Let us go somewhere more private," Wesker said, hand brushing Chris' gently for a moment as he strode past, not betraying how tired he was. Again, the two walked in silence until they had reached the STARS office, which was now deserted, everyone having gone home for the day or still arguing in the break room.

As soon as the door to the office was securely shut, Chris found himself in a kiss, Wesker's body pressing against his while one hand tugged their waists close together. The other hand came up to cup Chris' cheek, thumb gently caressing. Kissing him back, Chris found himself relaxing completely- the stress of the holidays and all it entailed leaving him for a short time.

The kiss itself wasn't passionate nor was it heated. It was simply a greeting between the two men- a way for Wesker, without saying it out loud, to express that he was eager for Chris just as much as Chris was eager for him.

Chris also liked to think it was because Wesker missed him, but he knew that was wishful thinking on his part. Wesker was probably only capable of missing his sunglasses.

When they pulled away from the kiss, Chris moved his head back slightly and raised a hand to take Wesker's sunglasses off, wanting to see his stormy grey eyes. But there were visible bags under his eyes when he pulled them off, and he tried to take the sunglasses back, only to have Chris pocket them.

"You're exhausted…" Chris mumbled, kissing Wesker slowly once again.

"I will admit it's been a frustrating week…that is why I would prefer if we forgot about the incident a month ago- it is in the past and I do not want to talk about it," Wesker said, pulling away from Chris to go to his desk where his jacket and a small suitcase with wheels were placed.

Well, Chris wasn't going to complain.

"You didn't go home before you came over here?" Chris asked, looking at the suitcase.

"No, I took the taxi straight here so I could drop of those files," Wesker said, putting his jacket on while Chris went to get his.

"Did you… did you want a ride home? I don't want you to have to pay for another taxi ride," Chris suggested, really just wanting to spend a little more time with Wesker.

"Your generosity may get you into trouble one day," Wesker said, although there was a hint of amusement in his tone- just a hint though. "But I will accept your offer… Thank you."

Moving over to Wesker's desk, Chris kissed him again before wheeling the suitcase behind him as they headed to the parking lot. He figured he'd have to catch Wesker exhausted more often on account of how easy it was to sneak in little kisses.

"I can take my suitcase, Christopher."

"I've already got a firm grip on it- besides, the suitcase and I are starting to create a bond here and I don't want to ruin it just as it's beginning."

Chris could feel Wesker's confusion at the offhanded joke, and he couldn't help but laugh at how Wesker never seemed to understand his more quirky jokes.

"Well… give me my sunglasses back," Wesker said, making Chris stop to pull them out of his pocket. While Wesker seemed more comfortable taking his sunglasses off when he was in the office or with Chris, he was still never seen in general public without them on. As much as Chris liked to push Wesker's buttons, he thought it best to just give Wesker that comfort back.

When they got to his car, Chris threw the suitcase in the back before hopping in quickly, slamming his door shut with great force. Wesker got in with more grace, closing the door with less of a bang than Chris before putting his seatbelt on, the only sound in the jeep being that of the click of the lock keeping the belt in place.

The drive to Wesker's apartment was spent in silence, with Wesker looking out the window the entire time, seemingly deep in thought. The city street lights were already on, the sun already down due to the shorter days during the winter which made it look like it was late in the evening rather than only six o'clock. But the orange glow from the lights reflected off of Wesker's hair as they passed under them, catching Chris' eye every so often, giving him an excuse to examine his Captain.

His legs were slightly spread rather than their usual crossed, and his chin was resting on the palm of his hand, arm placed against the armrest. Wesker looked so exhausted, and Chris hoped the man would get some sleep when he got home instead of doing more paperwork (which Chris suspected he would anyways).

When they arrived at the apartment, Chris parked the car on the other side of the street and turned the car off. It took Wesker a moment before he finally lifted his head from his hand and turned to look at him, making him wonder if he had perhaps dozed off during the drive.

"Well thank you, Christopher… once again I seem to owe you for your kindness."

"Don't worry about it… you would have done the same. Or at least I hope you would have." Chris smiled as he moved over slightly, wanting to kiss Wesker again.

Absence made the heart grow fonder- or at least absence made the dick grow harder.

Wesker clued in quickly to what Chris was hinting at, and undid his seatbelt before moving forward, capturing Chris' lips in a kiss. Opening his mouth quickly, Chris could feel Wesker's tongue easily slip into his mouth, sweeping across all of his little weak spots which always made him let out a soft moan. It felt so good to kiss him again…

He didn't know what was so wrong about this- about two people of the same sex wanting to be together. For Chris this felt _right_ and it wasn't anything disgusting. But what his uncle had said to him, combined with Forest's ideas on Wesker, made Chris start to think about it all over again.

It must have shown through, because Wesker pulled away after a moment, a frown on his features.

"You've stilled…" Wesker said, exasperated.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about something… Hey, can I ask you something?" Chris asked, sitting back comfortably in his chair. Wesker nodded, although his eyebrows were furrowed and the lethargic air around him had disappeared- replaced by something else.

"I was just… well I was wondering about how you came out as gay to your family." Staring at his hands, Chris took a moment to brace himself before looking up at Wesker.

Wesker appeared shocked for a moment, and suddenly yawned before answering. "I never came out to them- my love life has never been a topic of discussion with my family. We worry about career choices, not who I sleep with."

"O-oh… well then…"

"Why are you asking me this?" Wesker asked.

That was a good question, one Chris had wondered himself. He thought that maybe if he talked to someone who knew everything and could understand, then he could forget about what his uncle said.

"I was just wondering if your experience was a good one. I… well Forest was going on about gay guys and he… was saying bad things."

"Well that is his problem. You should not care about what other people think, Christopher. There are only a few people in your life who you should listen to when they tell you something- the one writing your paychecks, and the ones who will get you somewhere in this world. Everyone else is irrelevant."

"That's not exactly what I wanted to hear," Chris mumbled, a little shocked at how cold Wesker could be.

"Did you want me to lie? I know Forest is your best friend, but by the sound of it, he's an utter buffoon who does not know what he is talking about. If you're going to let him dictate how you should think, then I suggest you only listen to him, not face the real world."

Chris hoped Wesker would never have children.

But what Wesker said did hold a certain amount of truth. And while Chris wished Wesker had been more kind about it, the message still carried through to him well enough.

Don't care what other people think- if it makes you happy and it doesn't hurt anyone else, then go ahead and do it.

"I guess… I just keep thinking about it and it's pissing me off. But… can I ask you something else?" When Wesker nodded, Chris continued. "How do you deal with people talking bullshit about your sexuality and being gay?"

"I don't deal with them- I simply walk away from people such as those and hope they suffer in their blind ignorance."

Again, not the answer he was looking for, but it worked nonetheless. Letting what Wesker said sink in, Chris found he had already gotten out of the car and was opening the back door to grab his suitcase by the time he had snapped out of his daze.

Shutting the door, Wesker opened the passenger door a crack and gave Chris a level stare through his lowered sunglasses.

"Don't worry about trivial matters such as those. You have enough things to think about that are more worthy of your time, dear heart." And with that, he had slammed the door closed and was headed to his apartment, keys already out.

Chris watched him until he had safely made it into the apartment building before driving home- deep in thought. He was happy to see Wesker again, and while he wished he could have gone inside with Wesker and had mind-blowing sex, he understood Wesker would probably fall asleep on top of him in the process.

With these thoughts in his mind, it wasn't until he had taken a shower and was getting ready for bed back at his apartment that Chris realized Wesker had called him 'dear heart'.

* * *

_Wesker may be a dick, but at least he has good advice... sometimes. Anyways, this chapter was both fun to write, as well as annoying. Mostly because I hate writing homophobes, especially when they happen to be a character like Forest who is all around awesome except for his, uh... ignorance. But we have more Wesker and Chris interaction in this chapter (Dear Heart has finally made an apperance), and there will be more next chapter because... IT'S NEW YEARS! Guys, I am super excited for the next chapter, just because it's my favorite chapter so far in the story! Once again I want to thank all of you who read/review/favorite this story! I know a lot of you guys just got out of school, so I hope you enjoy your summer holidays~!_


	21. New Years

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: MalexMale sex  
_

**Authors Note: **My favorite chapter so far! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, so I really hope you enjoy reading it! Not much to say really, other than the usual 'I love you guys who support me and you're all so amazing' that I do before and after every chapter. But it's true, you guys rock my socks! Also, I hope you guys are working on your entries for the contest! And finally, another shoutout to my awesome beta, **MissPumpkinHead **who's been working super hard to get this chapters polished for you guys!

* * *

**Chapter 21- New Years**

_People are so worried about what they eat between Christmas and the New Year, but they really should be worried about what they eat between the New Year and Christmas. ~Author Unknown_

Chris stared at the half-eaten chicken, hard as rock lima beans, and the strange rice casserole that had been coated in a cheap and uninspired curry that were residing on his plate, trying to decide on whether or not his stomach could handle any more of the horrid food. He knew it was polite to finish your food at these sorts of events, but Chris valued both his taste buds and his stomach far too much to throw it away on some crap meal he didn't have to pay for.

Judging by the rest of the people at his table, he wasn't the only one considering giving up. Jill had managed to move the food around enough that it looked like she had eaten it, Edward had managed to get through the chicken before he tossed the lima beans into the flower centerpiece, and Joseph looked decidedly ill every time he so much as looked at the curry dish.

The only ones who seemed to get through the entire meal were Barry and Forest, but they claimed that they had years of practice getting through horrid cooking thanks to their mothers.

The New Year's Gala had started out like any other event. Guests slowly filtered in, some Chris recognized and others he simply knew as officials he did not want to anger. He tried to mingle, but he soon realized he didn't know what the hell he was talking about, and found his way to the safety of the STARS table where everyone but Enrico and Wesker were sitting.

The two Captains had the unfortunate business of sitting at the table with all of the higher-ups, the men and women who were signing _their_ pay checks. Under normal circumstances, Chris would have found the entire idea of Wesker trying to play nice with everyone entirely too amusing, but he was far too concerned about the strange food that magically appeared on his plate that he was expected to eat to laugh at the expense of his Captain.

Chris had been so deep in thought about the food that he jumped slightly when one of the waiters had swooped in to take his plate, officially ending the predicament he was in.

"Oh, thank god…" Chris could hear Jill mutter under her breath as her plate, too, was taken.

The entire room seemed to relax as their dishes were removed, and conversation immediately picked up as people left their chairs to mingle. Music started to play courtesy of a live band, and already half-drunken middle-aged couples began to stagger around on the dance floor, attempting to dance like they did in their youth.

Most of the STARS members left the table to go and speak with someone else they knew, but Chris found himself content to stay in his chair where he couldn't possibly cause any trouble. Forest, Richard, and Brad all seemed content to stay where they were as well, worried looks etched across their features.

They had all gone into work earlier that day, not because they felt like working on New Year's Eve, but because Wesker had an important meeting planned, one that was critical for the gala and one that involved some very heavy warnings for everyone.

"_There will be no vulgar dancing, no swearing, no lewd conduct, no inappropriate discussions, and no gossip," Wesker said, pacing up and down the briefing room. "I want you all to wear perfect smiles the entire evening, to dance with respect towards the young woman you're with, and most importantly, respect those who you are conversing with- especially if they rank higher than you… do I make myself clear?"_

"_What if we don't dance well?" Forest asked, raising his hand._

"_Then don't dance."_

"_What if someone asks us to dance though- isn't it rude to say no?"  
_

"_Then simply state that you are feeling unwell, or make up another appropriate excuse."_

"_Aren't excuses like that sort of rude too?"_

"_Will you stop with these questions? Just don't do anything completely idiotic and you won't lose your job- is that clear enough?"_

It certainly was clear enough- so clear that all four men sitting at the table were afraid to do anything that might upset anyone at the gala.

"So… nice music," Forest said, fiddling with his bowtie every so often as he looked around the room.

"If you like swing, I guess it is." Brad was busy inspecting his wine glass for some unknown reason. Chris suspected it was just to look busy in hopes no one would talk to him.

"I like swing music," Chris said, trying to keep the awkward conversation going. With so many things being deemed as inappropriate to discuss, it seemed like no one knew what they could say.

"I've always been more of a jazz man myself," Richard said, before everyone fell silent, the four of them looking around the room while hands came up to grab at bowties that felt far too tight.

What felt like an eternity seemed to pass before Chris felt a weight on the back of his chair. Craning his neck around, Chris could see very well up Wesker's nose before he turned back around, suddenly very interested in the floral centerpiece. He really did like how the red roses mixed with the white baby's breath.

"Why are you all just sitting here?" Wesker asked.

"Uh… well… because we like to sit?" Forest said, although he sounded confused by his answer.

Chris could hear Wesker sigh before replying. "Well you will all have plenty of time to sit later when you're home. For now I suggest you go and mingle."

Punctuating the word 'mingle' with a sharp tug to Chris' chair, all of the men at the table stood up quickly and nodded at their Captain before dispersing into the crowd, intent on finding someone to speak with whom they knew.

Chris looked around the room for a moment before he caught sight of a familiar face standing with a few other women near the dance floor. Slipping past people as quickly as possible, Chris found himself sliding in beside Mindy, relief seeping into him. Mindy would protect him from the awkward small talk- or at least he hoped she would.

"Oh, hi, Chris!" Smiling, Mindy moved her champagne glass from one hand to the other and patted Chris on the shoulder gently. She was wearing an elegant dark green dress with small black accents, while her blonde hair was pulled up in a bun, small curls coming down to frame her face.

Chris thought she looked like a million bucks.

"Hey, how are you?" he asked, going to kiss her cheek.

Shrugging, Mindy let it be known that she was just okay through the simple gesture before turning her attention to the two other women who were present in the conversation. "Chris, I would like you to meet Tara and Meredith. They both work as secretaries in the main lobby of the RPD."

Shaking the two ladies' hands, Chris gave them his brightest smile, which seemed to have quite the effect on Tara. She was a petite woman, her slim figure covered in a bright red fabric, the style of dress similar to that of the classic Chinese gowns he saw in the China Town district of Raccoon City. Her dark black hair cascaded down her shoulders in long curls, and although Chris wasn't attracted to dark haired women, he had to admit she was very pretty.

"It's nice to meet you, Chris… Where do you work?" Meredith asked as Tara battered her eyelashes.

"I'm a member of STARS- part of Alpha Team, actually," Chris said, watching Tara carefully to make sure she didn't try anything. She already seemed like a very upfront woman.

"Oh, you're part of STARS? That must be very exciting; I bet you have a lot of stories to tell," Tara said, a smile playing at her lips.

"I've got a few, but they're pretty involved tales."

"Mind telling me one while we dance?"

It took Chris a moment to realize Tara had asked him to dance, and he must have looked like a very intelligent man with such a shocked expression on his face. Usually the guy asked, and when they did it was after some playful conversation. Tara certainly went straight for the kill.

Mindy seemed to realize this too, and she was about to say something (Chris suspected it was to deflect the proposition), but Chris beat her to it.

"I'd love to," he said, sticking his arm out for her to take. She couldn't seem to help but grin widely, and passed her glass to Meredith before following Chris out onto the dance floor. Although Chris considered himself faithful to Wesker, he thought there was no harm in dancing with Tara. She was pretty, he enjoyed dancing, and it wasn't like he could actually dance with Wesker. Besides, they were playing a fast-paced song that didn't require any slow and intimate dancing.

"So, STARS… You must be very important," she said as they moved across the dance floor, Chris guiding her with ease. Thank god his aunt taught him how to dance when he was younger.

"Not really- we're not as important as people make us out to be. We've just got tougher jobs, I guess."

"You're just being modest… I like that," Tara said, keeping in time with the music.

Blushing, Chris looked away for a moment and glanced up from Tara's face just in time to see Wesker standing close to the dance floor. He was in a group of people who were in deep discussion, but Wesker's attention seemed to be on him.

"U-uh, glad you like modest people. It's a good trait; people don't value it enough," Chris said, tearing his attention away from Wesker to look back at Tara.

She laughed softly, the sound carrying over to him clear enough through the music and conversation all around them. "You're funny too- how come no one's snatched you up yet?"

"Who said they haven't?"

"You're not seeing anyone, are you?" Despite the question, there was still a playful tone in her voice, one that told Chris it didn't matter to her either way.

Glancing back up at Wesker, he now seemed to be in deep discussion with a portly older gentleman, but Chris knew he continued to glance over at him, despite the sunglasses that covered his eyes.

"I… well, I am. But I can still dance with other pretty ladies." Smiling, Chris spun her before pulling her back close, making her laugh.

Chris knew he was making Wesker squirm, and did he ever enjoy it. It was about time he made Wesker wonder what their relationship was, and it felt good to have that power over the older man.

"Well, I'm fine with that too, Chris."

The two of them danced for one more song before they both returned to the side where Mindy and Meredith were still standing. Taking her glass back from Meredith, Tara turned and gave Chris a quick courtesy.

"Thank you for the dance, Chris. You're very quick on your feet, and it's not every day a girl meets a man who can dance so well."

"You're welcome; it was a pleasure dancing with you as well. Now, if you ladies will excuse me…" Shaking Meredith's and Tara's hands once again, Chris turned and kissed Mindy quickly on the cheek before pulling back.

Mindy gave Chris an accusing look, and he simply shrugged and left them to their gossip. Making his way to the washroom, Chris left the ballroom and walked down the hallway until he got to the very end where the swinging doors lay that would lead him to the white and crystal clean bathroom.

That was one thing Chris always checked for when he entered a new building- where the bathrooms were.

Going to one of the urinals, Chris pulled himself out and proceeded with business while the door to the bathroom opened once again. Footsteps could be heard and they abruptly stopped behind him.

"Christopher, I wanted to talk to you."

Wesker's voice resounded about the room, and Chris suddenly found himself unable to pee.

"U-uh… did you want to talk right now? Because I'm kinda in the middle of something…" Chris said, looking over his shoulder at Wesker.

Wesker shrugged and motioned for Chris to continue, his attention turning to the mirrors that lined the walls.

Turning his attention back to the duty at hand, Chris tried to stop thinking about the man standing right behind him who was practically breathing down his neck as he pissed. It took a while, but he finally finished what he was doing and zipped himself up before going to the sinks, turning the hot and cold water taps on to wash his hands.

Wesker followed, and leaned against the counter casually, watching Chris.

"You were dancing with one of the young secretaries before. I had no idea you could dance," Wesker said, betraying no jealousy of any kind. It kind of pissed Chris off- just a little, though.

"You never asked and we were never in a situation where it mattered. But yeah, I can dance- gotta be quick on my feet, right?" Winking, Chris finished washing and grabbed a paper towel that was sitting beside the soap dispenser.

"Mm… in any matter, I was wondering if you would care to come back to my place tonight?" Wesker said it so casually, but Chris realized that maybe he had become a little jealous after seeing him dance with a woman.

"Yeah… why did you want me to come over?" Chris asked, a grin appearing on his features.

"Well, it has been well over a month since we've-" Chris' eyes went wide as the door to the bathroom opened and an older gentleman appeared, his big bottle glasses perched upon his hawk-like nose as he interrupted the conversation. Wesker caught on at the last second, and a smirk appeared at his lips before finishing. "-gone through your physicals. I think you and I need to go through the training course again."

The man went into one of the stalls, and Chris turned his attention back to the smirking man before him.

"Physicals?"

"Yes, physicals. We would run through the training circuit- have you break out into a sweat as you… show off your physical prowess. I can sense that you're just ready for an explosion of energy after being away for a month…"

"Explosion of energy?" Chris mumbled, mind going in every direction but landing on a very, very nice possibility.

"Mm, yes… but don't think I'll be going easy on you- I haven't gone through the course for a while either, and I am eager to see what you have inside your system… So, what do you say to all of this?"

Chris never knew Wesker could be so dirty minded- but god damn, he loved it.

"S-sure… yeah, sounds great," he said, voice cracking slightly. Wesker smirked, and patted Chris on the arm before going to fix his already perfect hair in the mirror.

The two men left the bathroom and walked back to the ballroom together, with Chris a little more eager for the entire affair to be over. He was about to go and sit back at the table where he saw a few other STARS members had congregated, before a slightly familiar voice stopped both he and Wesker.

Looking to the side, Chris saw Chief Irons standing with his wife and a very frightened Forest. Things did not appear to be going well.

Walking over to the small group, Chris found Wesker gently pressing his shoulder against Chris' before forcing a polite smile onto his lips as he looked at Irons.

"I see you found one of my STARS members finally," Wesker said, his refined accent coming in handy as he tried not to sound annoyed.

"Finally- your god damn team seems to run away from me whenever I approach them!" Irons said, anger in his voice despite his wife's nervous laugh.

"I'm sorry if they caused you any inconvenience, but I'm sure they didn't notice you had arrived, what with all of the stimulating conversations there are to take part in."

Wesker knew how to tread carefully. Forest and Chris, however, did not.

"We weren't running from you," Chris said, trying to ease the situation as Forest moved ever so slowly from Irons and closer to Chris and Wesker.

"Yeah, and if we were then we'd run from Wesker too!" Forest said, laughing nervously. He seemed to be the only one laughing though.

Irons let out a gruff sound before shaking his head. "Your team needs to learn some manners."

Wesker bit back an almost feral snarl that Chris could hear the beginnings of, and instead clenched his jaw before replying. "I'm not their mother… but yes, manners can be taught."

"Sometimes I think STARS is a mess, you know that, _Wesker_?" Irons said Wesker's last name like it was a piece of trash, and Chris could feel something bad was going to happen.

"While you may insult me and my unusual customs and practices, I will not tolerate you calling the STARS team a mess. They are some of the finest men and women this city has to offer, with incredible skills and intelligence in their areas of expertise. They put their lives on the line every day, and while you may not appreciate the dedication and experience they bring, the people whom they save on a regular basis do," Wesker said, his voice barely controlled as he stared the police Chief down.

Irons seemed at a loss for what to say, and there was silence between all of the members involved in the conversation. Chris thought for a moment that Irons was going to punch Wesker, but the signalling of the last dance before countdown and the Chief's wife pulling him away broke the spell that had been cast.

"Uh… that was…" Chris mumbled before Forest spoke up.

"Thanks, Wesker… for, you know… defending us."

Wesker shrugged and didn't say anything before waving the two off as he stalked away in some direction. Chris was going to follow before he felt a tug at his arm, pulling him towards the dance floor.

Turning around, he saw Jill's hand wrapped around his arm, pulling him towards the dance floor with the amount of force only a woman like her could muster.

"It's the last dance before countdown and I've danced with men who don't know their left foot from their right," Jill began to explain as they got in position on the floor and started to move through the crowed. "I saw you dancing earlier and I thought I would get a good dance out of you."

Chris forgot about following Wesker as soon as his feet started moving, and he couldn't help but smile as Jill explained her back luck with dancers. "They weren't taught by their aunt and little sister, I guess."

Smiling, Jill moved with Chris easily enough, the dance slower-paced than the ones he had experienced before. They were close enough together that they could dance comfortably, but a friendly distance was kept between the two. Jill's cheeks were slightly pink, and her short brown hair swayed as they moved back and forth and side to side. Chris realized how young she actually was, and how much she was accomplishing- he felt lucky to have her as a friend.

"You have a younger sister? I never knew that…"

"Yeah, her name is Claire. I saw her on Christmas and showed her the STARS photo- she already likes you because you keep all of us guys in check," Chris said, winking.

Laughing, Jill shook her head but didn't say anything as the two danced slowly, enjoying the music and the environment that had been created. While the evening was awkward at times, and the food was horrible, Chris figured the night could have gone much worse. Well, Chris figured Wesker was in a pretty foul mood at this point in time, but he intended on changing that later on.

He was so deep in thought that he didn't realize the count down to 1998 had started until they had all stopped dancing. They were already on seven when Chris realized that he was with Jill on New Year's.

Six.

Didn't they expect you to kiss someone on New Year's?

Five.

Oh no… did Jill want a kiss?

Four.

What if she did- should he kiss her back?

Three.

But if she didn't, then what would he do- stand there like an idiot?

Two.

Or if she did, what kind of kiss did she expect?

One.

Shit.

Turning to look at Jill as the entire place erupted in confetti and happy new year's, Chris found himself bending down to kiss her on her cheek quickly, a happy new year's whispered in her ear before pulling up.

The look on Jill's face was unreadable for a moment, before she smiled brightly and hugged Chris to return the kiss on the cheek.

"Happy New Year," she said back before pulling away. Confetti continued to fall from the ceiling, coating everyone in colourful dots of paper as noise makers rattled about and the song 'Auld Lang Syne' was played courtesy of the band. Barry, Brad, and Edward found Chris and Jill in the crowd, and they began to sing the classic tune with Jill- off key and full of enthusiasm, as it should be.

Chris would have joined in if not for that fact that he had looked up to see Wesker had returned and was standing near the exit doors, well away from the raining confetti. A break in the crowed let Chris see him, before the view was swallowed up.

Not even saying goodbye to his friends, who seemed too caught up in the moment anyways, Chris pushed himself through the crowd until he had cleared the busy area. Wesker noticed him approach, and turned around to leave the room, signalling Chris should follow.

As soon as they left the ballroom, Chris grabbed Wesker's hand and dragged him to a deserted corridor where no one would be venturing for some time. Turning around, Chris pressed himself against Wesker and cupped his face in his hands as he gave him a searing kiss. He could feel Wesker's arms wrap around his waist, and a wall soon met his back as Wesker pushed him up against it.

Not breaking apart, they continued to kiss before breathing became an issue. Breaking away rather regretfully, Chris rested his forehead against Wesker's and smiled softly.

"Happy New Year…"

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"I-I like y-your shirt," Chris panted out, his naked body pressed against the mattress on Wesker's bed. Over top of him, Wesker was thrusting slowly and deeply into Chris, blonde hair getting in his eyes while his open dress shirt gently brushed against Chris' abdomen every so often.

Wesker let out a small grunt while moving down to kiss up Chris' neck before biting an earlobe. "It's just a regular dress shirt…"

"Y-yeah, but it h-hangs off of you so well," Chris said, arms wrapped around Wesker's shoulders.

When the two men had left the party, they came immediately to Wesker's apartment, where they wasted no time in getting to the bedroom. Chris managed to slow Wesker down enough so he could properly remove his expensive, _rented_ tux, but couldn't stop himself when Wesker was half-naked.

They settled for getting Wesker's bottom half completely nude before they continued, and his shirt was almost removed before the need to be together took over any other thought. And so, his nice white shirt was still clinging to him, opened all the way so Chris could admire his chest.

Grinding upwards, Chris moved against Wesker as he gained more confidence in the bedroom with the blonde. While sex with another man still felt a little strange, Chris enjoyed it enough that preparation wasn't as painful and it didn't take as long as it had the first time. And his movements were much more assured and put together, making the experience that much better for both of them.

"H-how much have you been craving this?" Wesker panted against Chris' ear, growling softly as Chris let one leg slide down his side.

"S-so much… I-I was thinking about this all the time when I was away… C-couldn't help but crave this," Chris said, tilting his head to the side as Wesker continued to lavish the skin with kisses and nips.

"Do you ever touch yourself and think about this- about me being inside you… dominating you?"

"Yes… oh god, yes," Chris moaned out, moving his head so he could kiss Wesker deeply, their bodies moving together faster.

Breaking the kiss, Wesker raised himself above Chris and began to drive into him hard and fast, the steady rhythm coming to a close as the two men came dangerously close to the edge. While they probably could have lasted longer, the separation for a month made them desperate for release, and Chris could feel himself climaxing soon.

Reaching down between their bodies, Chris began to pump his dick, back arching up as he ground down, trying to meet the thrusts of Wesker's hips. A few more pumps and he was coming, a cry accompanying the action as his semen coated his fingers and stomach.

Wesker's movements had become jerky, the rhythm lost as Chris tightened around Wesker's cock, making the man lose control for a moment. Ducking his head back down to rest under Chris' jaw, Wesker let out a soft, barely noticeable moan as he came, pelvis grinding into Chris' ass.

It lasted for a short moment before Wesker pulled out and collapsed on top of Chris- a position Chris figured was something Wesker enjoyed a lot, judging by how long he would spend laying there.

Wrapping a leg around Wesker's thigh, Chris stared up at the ceiling and collected himself as best he could while a goofy grin spread across his lips.

Wesker's head was laying on Chris' shoulder, one hand placed on Chris' side while the other lay limp on the mattress. Nothing was said for a while, and Chris moved so he could kiss Wesker on top of the head.

"What a way to bring in 1998, hey?" Chris asked, sliding one hand down to intertwine with Wesker's beautiful fingers. He was going to take advantage of Wesker's relaxed state and try and cuddle as much as possible.

"Yes, I would agree… I hope it is good to you, dear heart."

Chris laughed softly and let out a breathy sigh. "I've got a good feeling it will."

* * *

_Oh Chris... if only you knew. Anyways, yay! We get more sex, more friendship bonding, and asshole Irons! I don't know why I like this chapter so much, I just do. So I hope you all like it too! Thank you for the reviews/watches/favorites, once again!_


	22. Mornings

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Mentions of sex  
_

**Authors Note: **And here we are at another chapter. So I noticed that I'm super close to receiving 300 reviews thanks to all of you! I haven't gotten 300 reviews before, so this is a new milestone! So if I do hit 300 reviews this chapter, then I want to give you all a big thank you! You're support means the world to me, and I am glad you guys are enjoying the story enough to review! Also, I'd like to take the time to pimp something out. A fellow WeskerxChris author, **Dugfinn**, along with her friends, has created this epic RE cosplay group and are currently making videos surrounding a story they made involving characters from RE! It's called the** Resident Evil Residential Files** and I am really craptastic at explianing it, but you should go check out their website and join the forums if you like what you see and want to support them! Just google the Resident Evil Residential Files and it should be the first thing! Okay, pimping is done, now, on to the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 22- Mornings**

_I have a "carpe diem" mug and, truthfully, at six in the morning the words do not make me want to seize the day. They make me want to slap a dead poet. ~Joanne Sherman~_

Chris woke up much in the same fashion he had the first time he slept over at Wesker's place. He was wrapped in the blankets and a warm, calming sensation flittered about his semi-conscious mind. He didn't know what time it was, but judging by how much light was filtering through the blinds and into his eyes, he guessed it was still early.

Too early to be getting up after New Year's Eve, that was for sure. But he figured Wesker was probably already awake and out doing something, with a note left to him saying he should leave after he was fully awake- it was to be expected with a guy like Wesker. You didn't have those good morning cuddles.

Sighing softly, Chris snuggled into the blankets before attempting to roll over, only to come into contact with another warm body.

Freezing, Chris opened his eyes fully and craned his head around to peer over his shoulder. Wesker was laying beside him, the blankets half off of his nude form as he lay on his back, one arm curled under his head while the other rested over his chest. His breathing was deep and slow, making Chris figure he was still fast asleep.

Using this rare moment to his advantage, Chris slowly turned over and propped himself up on his arm to gaze at Wesker when his guard was completely down- there could be no hiding now.

His hair was now loose and free-flowing, with a few of the longer blonde locks resting across his forehead and over his ears. His mouth was slightly parted, and if Chris strained enough he could hear a small noise, almost like a snore. The morning light was catching the golden highlights in his hair, and dips and shadows on his face brought out his high cheekbones.

To Chris, Wesker just looked plain gorgeous like this- no lines between his eyebrows, no tension on the corners of his lips, no worry lines etched across his forehead. He looked younger than he normally did- he looked his age.

Not being able to resist, Chris reached out and gently brushed away some of Wesker's hair from his forehead, fingers feather-soft against his skin.

Unfortunately, it wasn't soft enough and Wesker began to stir, causing Chris to pull his hand back quickly as if it had been burnt. Moving a bit, Wesker let out a soft hum before his eyelids fluttered open, grey eyes unfocused before they locked onto the looming form of Chris.

"What are you doing?" Wesker asked, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing, breaking the peace that had previously been on his face.

"Looking," Chris replied, shrugging as best he could with one arm propping his entire upper half up.

"Well stop it- it's disconcerting." Rubbing his eyes with his free hand, Wesker yawned and moved to sit up before Chris pushed him back down.

"Where are you going?"

"To the bathroom to get ready for the day… Let go of me."

Snorting, Chris shook his head and moved so he was half on top of Wesker. Glancing at the alarm clock next to the bed, the time read 8:15, making Chris internally cringe. "We were up until three last night and you want to get up now- five hours of sleep can't be good for a productive day."

"I've worked on less," Wesker said, watching Chris slide on top of him with some concern in his eyes. "Get off of me."

"I'll get off of you, you control freak, if you agree to just relax in bed with me for a bit. It is New Year's day and you've got the day off… I've got the day off. Come on, no one's even doing business today, so I think you can spend some time with the guy you pounded into _twice_ last night."

Wesker refused to spread his legs when Chris gently nudged, making Chris straddle him. A moment passed in which Wesker seemed to contemplate his options before he glared up at him.

"Only for a moment. Now please get off of me."

Smiling in victory, Chris placed a few kisses down Wesker's neck before sliding off of him with ease. Flopping down on the mattress beside him, Chris resumed his position of resting on his arm as Wesker propped one of his pillows against the headboard.

"Well… now that you have your way, what is it you would like to do?" Wesker asked, looking at Chris with an eyebrow raised.

"Uh… we could talk… we could go back to sleep… we could just relax... have sex… plan to take over the world… whatever."

Wesker gave Chris a startled look before he resumed his usual impassive manner. "I would like to go with the sleeping option. You yourself said that five hours was not enough to function, and while I disagree with that, I feel sleeping is good for the body."

Chris gave Wesker a level stare before rolling his eyes. "I miss your ability to carry a normal conversation like when we have sex. As soon as your dick is limp you get all critical and analytical about everything."

"If it bothers you, perhaps you should let me go to the washroom and stop insisting we lay in bed."

"It doesn't bother me, I'm just saying…"

Rolling his eyes, Chris watched as Wesker closed his own and proceeded to try and get back to sleep. Watching him for a moment, Chris' mind began to wander.

Just a few months ago, he would have been waking up next to another woman, a form that he was completely used to. The softness, the feather-light caresses, the giggles- all of these things Chris has become accustomed to in the early morning light. He wasn't accustomed, though, to waking up next to another man.

Wesker took up as much room on the bed as he did, and he wasn't all soft and round, an easy form to cuddle up to. Instead he was sharp and angled, with bony parts here and there that could certainly hurt if he decided to suddenly jab Chris. The parts that weren't bony were covered in hard, strong muscles, something that wasn't easy to rest next to, but was certainly very easy to admire.

Chris was still getting used to it, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy it. He enjoyed it quite a bit, actually.

Letting his hand wander again, Chris found himself gently tracing the side of Wesker's neck, making the older man open his eyes with a start.

"What are you doing now?" he asked, voice no longer fuzzy with sleep.

"How long did it take you to get used to being with another guy?" Chris asked, ignoring Wesker's question. His hand wandered to Wesker's Adam's apple, feeling it bob as the man swallowed.

"Mere moments… I knew I had always liked men, so I had not been with a woman- there was no need for me to get used to another man. It was just a matter of getting used to being with another person in general." Wesker's eyes scanned Chris' face, but Chris' eyes were fixed on his hand as he let it slide down to trace his collar bone.

Sliding over to his shoulder, Chris gently felt the muscle surrounding his shoulder before gliding back up to the middle of his chest. Wesker was watching Chris' hand, but stayed still as Chris continued to move his hand down to one of his pecks.

"What are you doing?" Wesker asked once again as Chris' hand lowered down to his abdomen.

"Getting used to another person…" Chris mumbled, a lopsided smile appearing on his lips as he trailed down to Wesker's belly button. He could feel Wesker tense slightly, before he completely relaxed under Chris' ministrations.

Sometimes Wesker reminded Chris of a cat- a few pets here and there and they wouldn't attack you for a time- but if you gave them too much attention or stepped on their tail just _once,_ it was game over.

Laying his hand flat, Chris slid his hand back up Wesker's stomach a few times, feeling the muscles tense and then relax. He could hear a soft sigh escape his lips, and Chris couldn't resist a grin.

Yup, he was exactly like a cat.

"I love your hands…" Chris mumbled, going to take one of Wesker's hands in his own. Tracing the veins at the surface, Chris lifted his hand up to kiss the knuckles, making Wesker open his eyes yet again to look at him.

"You're a creature of touch, aren't you, dear heart…" he mumbled, watching as Chris kissed the palm of his hand.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Well not necessarily- it depends, though, on what type of person you're practicing this touching thing on."

Laughing softly, Chris shook his head and lined the palm of his hand up with Wesker's, admiring the way they contrasted. His hands had calluses on them from going through training routines and working with guns without gloves on, while Wesker's were softer, fingers long and capable of feather-soft touches or bone-crushing grips. Chris took a moment to look back up at Wesker, who, despite his slightly cynical and harsh tone, looked at peace.

Letting go of Wesker's hand, Chris resumed his exploration of Wesker's body, starting back down with the belly button. He had to push the blankets down further and soon Wesker was laying completely naked on the bed.

"I must thank you for your courtesy in asking whether or not I would be cold if you completely removed the blankets," Wesker drawled out, but soon stopped talking when Chris' hands ran through coarse blonde curls before ending up at the base of his cock.

Gliding his hand to the side, Chris gently rubbed Wesker's hip, feeling the muscles and bones carefully. The hips were one of the biggest differences between a man and a woman. Women were soft and round, giving them their supple and curvy figures.

There was nothing soft and warm about Wesker's hips.

But they sure were nice to touch and feel, and Chris found himself enjoying the look and feel of another man's hips more than that of a woman's.

Maybe he did like men more… or maybe he just really liked Wesker, and everything else paled in comparison to a man as physically and mentally strong as the one who was laying before him.

"I'm surprised you're letting me do this," Chris said after a time, thumb rubbing little circles slowly where hip met groin.

"I do not see the point in stopping you… Besides, it's… soothing." Wesker seemed hesitant to say the end part, and Chris couldn't help but smile. A part of him was proud that he had managed to 'tame' Wesker for the time being.

He realized with perfect clarity that as soon as they left the bed, Wesker would pull himself away yet again, officially putting that huge wall between the two that seemed to prevent any actual intimacy to occur between them.

For now, though… well, now he was just content with getting to see the softer side of Wesker.

Running his hand along Wesker's thigh, Chris moved up and down for a while, eyes following the movement before he glided up to Wesker's flaccid cock. Hesitating a moment, Chris didn't know if he should go ahead and touch him, or forgo anything too sexual.

Wesker obviously noticed the hesitation, and sat up to grab Chris' hand. "Don't go forward with something when you've already hesitated."

Looking up from his hand, Chris stared at Wesker for a moment before nodding. Wesker made it clear that he wasn't interested in anything further, and he wasn't about to push it. That was until Wesker spoke yet again.

"You're obviously still hesitant when it comes to being with a man- it's understandable given your sexual history."

"I'm not hesitant- I'm perfectly fine, Wesker…" Chris said, a little offended by the way Wesker said it. He sounded so patronizing, and Chris wanted to wipe that smirk off of his features.

"Oh really, then why did you hesitate right there?" Raising an eyebrow, Wesker moved himself and sat up straighter in the bed.

"Because I wasn't sure if you wanted a hand job or not- I'm actually courteous and I ask if you want me to fondle your genitals. Come on, you can't honestly say that I'm still hesitant in bed- I did put your condom on last night, remember that? And I ground against you- I wouldn't call that hesitant. Oh, and I-"

"I get it, Christopher," Wesker interrupted him quickly, an annoyed expression on his face. "You always have to make it into something far greater than it actually is."

"Well sorry if I figure you're attacking my ability in bed…" Chris frowned, the tips of his ears going pink. Maybe he had overreacted, but he didn't enjoy being called hesitant and made to feel lesser because he hadn't fucked a bunch of guys.

"You're incredibly volatile sometimes," Wesker said, going to cup Chris' cheek. "Don't lose that."

Letting his eyes go down to the hand that was cupping his cheek, Chris gently nuzzled into the palm before looking back up at him. "If I lost it then I wouldn't be doing a good job of pissing you off on a regular basis."

Wesker smiled softly, and a small chuckle escaped his lips. Smiling as well, Chris kissed the palm of Wesker's hand before crawling onto his lap, straddling him.

"Sometimes you piss me off with how you're able to calm me down so quickly," Chris mumbled as Wesker wrapped his arms around him, hand sliding down to his lower back where he rubbed tanned skin.

Nuzzling into Chris' neck, Wesker applied a few kisses before biting gently. "I prefer to defuse the situation before you punch me in the face yet again," he said.

Chris smiled and tilted his head to the side while fingers tangled themselves in golden strands, a thumb gently rubbing circles behind one of Wesker's ears. As much as Wesker probably didn't like to admit it, he sure seemed to like to be close with Chris, judging by how he practically melted against him.

They stayed like that for some time, and Chris found himself slowly dozing off on Wesker's lap, a position he probably shouldn't be sleeping in. Pulling away slightly, Wesker lifted his head from Chris' shoulder and peered up at him.

"What is it?" he asked, hand going to caress Chris's ass for a moment before sliding back up to his lower back.

"I was falling asleep and sleeping on you like this probably isn't the best idea," Chris said, hands going to rest on Wesker's chest. Despite Wesker being close to middle age, he looked incredibly good for his age, making Chris sometimes forget the age-gap that most people found too large.

"When's your birthday?" Chris asked after a time.

Wesker seemed to hesitate a moment, eyes looking away from Chris' face for a time as he answered. "I don't have a birthday."

There was an awkward pause between the two before Chris burst out laughing. "T-that was one of your weaker lies, Wesker."

"Chris… my knee is dangerously close to your groin, so I would stop laughing," Wesker said, voice lower than before as he tried to intimidate Chris.

Trying to compose himself, Chris let out a few more smaller laughs as he crawled off of Wesker to sit beside him. Running a hand through his hair, Chris snorted before nudging gently.

"Come on… tell me your birthday! I promise I won't tell anyone else, even though I have no idea why you're so hesitant to say it in the first place."

Wesker sighed softly and rubbed his eyes before glancing over at Chris. "It is February 14th."

Chris stayed still for a moment, comprehending what Wesker had said exactly. February 14th… wasn't that Valentine's Day? Chris felt tension building up in his chest, and an overwhelming urge to laugh came over him- despite knowing he was going to become good friends with pain as soon as he let it out… but it was just so damn ironic.

Albert Wesker- born on the day of love.

Not being able to hold it in any longer, Chris finally burst out laughing and collapsed on the mattress as Wesker stayed sitting, stiff as a board and Chris cackled away, clutching his sides as he grew short of breath.

"I'm going to go take a shower," Wesker declared all of a sudden, getting off of the bed with great speed. Chris tried to compose himself and grabbed after Wesker, catching his arm in a tight grip.

"No, don't be like that! I just found it ironic and I couldn't help but laugh," Chris said as he got off of the bed to stand in front of Wesker, hand still holding onto Wesker's arm. He still had a goofy grin on his face, but at least he had stopped laughing.

Wesker was glaring at Chris through his messy hair, and Chris would have been more concerned if he hadn't felt Wesker relax just a fraction under his hand. "This is why I do not tell anyone my birthday."

"I'm sorry, I won't do it again," Chris mumbled, sliding closer to wrap his arms around Wesker's shoulders. Wesker stayed stiff in Chris' arms, and continued to look miffed. "How about I make it up to you… how about we celebrate your birthday together?"

"I don't celebrate my birthday- living another year is not a great accomplishment at my age, so I don't see the need in celebrating it… Besides… birthdays involve sparkles and… bright colours that can be irritating to the eyes."

"I promise there will be no bright colours or irritating sparkles- it'll be just you and me… and maybe I can prove to you how I am not hesitant in bed like you say I am." Winking, Chris slid closer so their chests were almost touching and their foreheads were pressed together. Wesker continued to stay stiff in Chris' arms, but he wasn't pushing away.

"I can bring a treat too, like a cake or a sweet you like," Chris said after Wesker's thin lips remained tight.

More tense moments passed before Wesker finally opened his mouth, head moving away from Chris'. "I do enjoy lemon meringue pie…"

Grinning, Chris kissed Wesker on the forehead, making the man push him away with a sour look on his face. "Perfect, I'll bring you some pie, and then we can have our own celebration."

"This celebration had better involve sex," Wesker said, blunt and to the point. Chris nodded and moved to kiss Wesker slowly, finally sharing their good morning kiss.

Only the kiss wasn't that good and they both pulled away, expressions of slight disgust on each of their faces.

"Your mouth tastes like cock, Wesker," Chris said.

"Yours tastes no better… and you wouldn't know if my mouth tasted like cock because you've never tried it."

"Maybe on your birthday," Chris said after Wesker as the man finally made it to the bathroom to clean himself up for the day.

"I'll be looking forward to it," Wesker said over his shoulder before he closed the bathroom door, leaving Chris alone in the early morning light.

Going back to the bed, Chris curled back up into the blankets and couldn't help but smile.

This had been a very, very good morning.

Minus the morning breath kiss.

* * *

_Wesker and Chris never get proper goodmorning scenes, so I desperatly wanted to add one in because I think if had to be done at least once. It's sappy, it's cute, and it's totally something you're never going to see again *laugh* So enjoy the cuddles and the cuteness while you can, cuz it's a rarity with this couple for sure. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter we're back to our regular programme of violence, swearing, and mental breakdowns! Yay! And once again- iloveyouguyssomuch_


	23. Secrets

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Suicide  
_

**Authors Note:**I have three things to discuss! **1.** So I hit 300 reviews (thankyouthankyouthankyou) and I decided to draw all of you some fanart! I don't usually do fanart, so yeah, it's a treat (I hope). If you go to the bottom of my profile and click on my DA link, it should be the very first drawing you see when you got to my submissions! I hope you like it! **2.** It's less than 14 days until the Fanfiction contest is over, and yet I haven't seen many submissions. I know some of you are working on pieces but are getting caught up on things, SO, **would you like the contest deadline to be extended?** If it will help you, I can extend the deadline by a few days. Finally, **3. **I... forgot. Damns. Oh well, hope you enjoy the next chapter!

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**Chapter 23- Secrets**

_A man's true secrets are more secret to himself than they are to others. ~Paul Valery~_

Chris hated being woken up early, even if it was just by five minutes.

But he hated it even more when he was woken up a good five hours before he was supposed to be, with a loud buzzing sound resonating from his bedside table and through to his sleep-addled brain.

And he hated it even more when the pillow he had been spooning decided to move in order to stop the buzzing.

Cracking an eye open, Chris relaxed his grip around Wesker's waist and watched his back as he propped himself onto his elbow and snatched the pager off of the table. Chris could only see Wesker's outline, but could feel the sudden tension in his body as soon as he squinted at the small green screen.

"May I use your phone?" Wesker asked after a time, looking over his shoulder at Chris, who was already drifting back to sleep.

"Mmhm…" Chris mumbled, rolling away from Wesker so he could leave the bed without having to untangle himself from Chris' grip.

Listening to Wesker leave the room, Chris slid over to where he had been laying and curled up into the warmth that had been left behind, fully intent on going back to sleep after being woken up at two in the morning. It hadn't even occurred to Chris that it was strange for Wesker to be getting a page at such an hour, and that maybe something serious was going on.

Instead, all Chris could think about was how he was damn tired and could get in four hours and fifty-three more minutes of sleep if he was lucky. He had almost fallen completely asleep again before Wesker's footsteps could be heard returning to the bedroom with purpose behind them, and Chris opened his eyes just in time to see him striding through the bedroom door, a determined fire behind his eyes as he flipped the light on in the room.

"Fuck!" Chris cried out, shutting his eyes as the sudden light struck him, sending sharp needle pain shooting through his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

"Get up, we've got an emergency," Wesker said, completely ignoring Chris' discomfort as he put on a pair of pants he had been wearing yesterday.

Suddenly wide awake, Chris rolled out of bed and fought the need to close his eyes, instead blinking rapidly to get used to the light in the room. He shuffled over to his dresser where he pulled out a t-shirt and boxers, throwing them both on quickly before searching for a pair of pants. "What kind of emergency?"

"It's… just an emergency that we've been asked to deal with. I've already called Jill and she'll be meeting us at the house where we've been asked to go," Wesker said, doing the buttons up on his shirt with expert speed.

"Just Jill? What about everyone else?"

"It isn't anything that requires many of us, but it is a situation that must be dealt with quickly and… with discretion. I trust you and Jill to follow orders and respect the situation." Wesker slid his sunglasses back on before Chris had a chance to try and read him, leaving Chris wanting to pull them off and demand a straight answer. Instead, he asked another question, letting annoyance filter into his words.

"So you're not going to tell me anything about this mission you're sending me on?" he asked, finally finding a pair of pants.

"We've just been asked to check up on someone who's important to our careers- now stop asking questions and do up your pants."

Rolling his eyes, Chris did as he was told and snatched a pair of socks out of an open drawer before following Wesker into the living room. Sitting on the armrest of his couch, Chris put his socks on while Wesker quickly laced up his boots, hair falling in his eyes and making him grunt in frustration.

"Won't Jill wonder why we've shown up together with you in yesterday's work clothes?" Chris asked, grabbing his boots as well.

"I should hope she would be more concerned with the mission at hand rather than the state of my appearance. I doubt she will be looking at you hard enough to see the small bite I left and I simply look like I've been up all night- and will you lace those up faster?"

Chris went to touch his neck where he suspected Wesker had bitten too hard and left a mark, before sending Wesker a glare as he finished lacing his boots. Grabbing their jackets, the two of them left Chris' apartment and hurried down to the outdoor parking where Chris' Jeep was currently collecting snow.

Chris could hear Wesker mutter under his breath about 'bloody snow' and couldn't help but agree as the cold nipped at his only-just-awake senses. Getting into the car, Chris turned it on and put the heater on full blast before getting out to brush the snow off of the windows.

Wesker stood outside the vehicle and watched Chris, stance stiff and high-strung, fingers clutching the top of his jacket closed. Chris wondered for a moment why Wesker wasn't sitting in the car, but brushed the thought aside just like the snow on the window. There were more important things to ponder.

As soon as the windows were clean, both of them got into the car, which had warmed up only a fraction. Pulling out of the parking lot, Chris let Wesker give him directions to the unknown location, staying silent for most of the ride.

Chris was concerned about what exactly the mission was about. Wesker was being even more secretive than usual, and Chris began to wonder how far he was willing to trust him. While Wesker was his Captain and Chris knew that he wouldn't purposely put his team into danger, Chris also realized that not all danger came from guns and physical violence.

Secrets could be even more dangerous, and Wesker was an incredibly secretive man.

But for now, Chris was willing to go along with what he asked, trusting him enough at this point in time that he was almost willing to blindly walk into a situation if Wesker asked it of him- which he was essentially doing right now. But it still didn't take away from the apprehension and tension Chris was feeling as they drew closer to the unknown location.

"Pull over here," Wesker instructed as they drove into a residential neighbourhood, older houses lining the street. All of the lights were turned off and the cloudy night sky reflected the street lights, making everything appear lighter than it actually was.

Pulling up beside a two story home, Chris turned the car off and listened to the ticking of the engine and Wesker's calm breathing.

"Are we waiting for Jill?" Chris asked after a time, turning to look at Wesker, who was analysing the house.

Wesker didn't reply, and instead hummed softly before going to look at his watch, eyebrows furrowed.

"Will you tell me what's going on when she arrives?" Chris tried once again, the sinking feeling in his stomach becoming worse and worse. For some reason, Chris felt a certain dread surrounding the house, and he kept his gaze on Wesker's light profile and away from the pitch black windows of the house beside him.

"I will inform you of all I know… which isn't much, unfortunately," Wesker finally said, eyes looking up from his watch to the car that was approaching from the other direction. Chris watched as the car was parked on the other side of the road and its lights turned off, soon followed by the engine.

Stepping out of the car, Jill wrapped her coat further around her form and shut the door with her elbow. Following Wesker's example, Chris left the Jeep and went to the sidewalk where Jill was headed towards.

Smiling, Chris gently nudged Jill with his elbow as the two went to stand with their backs to the house, and looked at Wesker expectantly.

Brushing back a few locks of hair from his eyes, Wesker seemed to examine the house for a time before turning his attention to the two before him. "This is the house of one of Umbrella's top researchers, a Ms. Thompson. She's been acting odd according to some people, and they've asked us to go in and see if she's all right."

"Are you expecting a… suicide?" asked Jill.

Wesker didn't say anything, and instead headed towards the house with Chris and Jill following behind, their pacing slower than Wesker's.

"Does this feel weird to you?" Chris whispered to Jill as they walked up the steps of the porch. Wesker had already rung the doorbell and was standing a distance away, hands exposed to the cold.

"Yes, a little…" Jill mumbled, paying attention to the way in which they had just come, careful of any watchful eyes.

They all stood in silence for a time before Wesker moved to knock on the door, fist thumping heavily against the oak door. Again, nothing happened and Chris began to wonder what they were going to do now before Wesker grabbed the doorknob and opened the door with ease.

"It wasn't locked…" Jill mumbled as they carefully entered the warm house, all of the lights turned off. They were basked in darkness as soon as the door closed, and Chris let his eyes adjust themselves to the newfound darkness as they headed into the living room that was adjacent to the hallway.

"Ms. Thompson!" Wesker called out once, before turning to call up the stairs. Chris watched him for a moment before movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

Quickly turning all of his attention to the movement, Chris narrowed his eyes and walked closer, trying to figure out what it was before Jill switched the light on in the room, illuminating the shadowed movement to Chris.

"Shit."

That was all Chris could say as he stared at the hanging body of Ms. Thompson.

She had been dead for some time; her features already pale and face bloating as she swung gently from the exposed rafters on the ceiling, lank brown hair covering half her face. She was dressed in a simple, elegant black dress, and Chris looked down to see a suicide note laying under where she hung.

She had planned this, and Chris figured she had been contemplating this for some time before she went ahead and did it.

"She killed herself…" Jill said from behind Chris, voice soft and eyes wide.

"No, she died of a heart attack."

"What?" Chris turned around and watched Wesker stride into the living room. Bending down, Wesker picked up the suicide letter and read through it quickly, ignoring the shocked expressions on both Chris and Jill's faces.

Chris watched Wesker carefully as he read the letter, and noticed a slight amount of tension appear at the corners of his lips before he folded the letter and pocketed it.

"She died of a heart attack," Wesker repeated once again, finally turning his attention to Chris and Jill. "Now help me cut her down."

"W-what? No, no, we can't do that! We need to call 911 and get some backup in here before we go messing with anything!" Chris said, his eyes wide as he stared at his Captain.

"Don't refuse an order. Now catch her body when I cut the rope. And Jill, I want you to call Chief Irons at his house and tell him to send in the previously arranged squad." Wesker pulled a pocket knife from his jacket pocket and flipped the sharp blade upwards, the blade glinting in the dimly lit room.

Pulling a chair from the desk in the corner, Wesker positioned it carefully and nodded for Chris to stand near the body as Jill went off to do as she was told, obviously under a lot of conflict- just like Chris.

He was supposed to trust Wesker, but this seemed like a very shifty situation, like there was a cover-up going on and Chris wanted no part in it.

But he didn't have time to think before Wesker had completely cut the rope, and a heavy, lifeless body dropped awkwardly into Chris' arms. Pushing back any disgust, Chris lowered the body to the ground, setting her as carefully as he could.

She may be dead, but respect had to be shown.

"Wesker, what the fuck is going on?" Chris asked as soon as the body was resting on the floor. Standing up, Chris strode over to Wesker, who was still on the chair and was untying the rope from the ceiling.

"Nothing is going on; as you can see, she _clearly_ died of a heart attack." Chris could see up and behind Wesker's sunglasses, and noticed the irritation in his eyes.

"She did not die of a heart attack, and this is clearly some sort of cover-up and I-" Chris stopped talking as soon as he looked at the mantle over the fireplace, photos resting upon it.

They were family photos, and in every single one of them there was a young girl smiling brightly, innocence on her happy features. She couldn't have been more than five years old…

"She has a child…" Chris whispered, eyes going wide as he looked at the photographs.

"What?" Wesker let the rope drop to the ground beside the body and turned to look over his shoulder at the mantel.

"She has a fucking kid!" Chris said before taking off up the stairs, pushing past Jill, who had returned from the kitchen. Taking the steps two at a time, Chris ignored Jill's questions and turned to go down the hallway, throwing open the doors as he did so.

_Bathroom, office, storage, bedroom_-

Throwing open the last door, Chris was greeted with the sight of a young girl sitting on her bed, blanket wrapped around her form as she hugged a teddy bear close to her chest, tears streaming down her face.

"_I'm sorry, but your parents passed away…"_

_Claire was crying- she was pressed against him and she was crying and she wouldn't stop. No matter what he did or what he said, she just wouldn't stop…_

"_Please, Claire… Please stop crying…"_

As soon as Chris had opened the door, she let out a whimper and pressed herself against the wall, eyes wide as she stared at the looming figure in the hallway. She didn't say anything, and Chris walked into the light coming from her beside table so she could see him properly.

"Hi there… I'm Officer Chris Redfield and I'm with the city police…" Chris said, keeping his voice calm as he pulled out his badge. Footsteps could be heard behind him, and Chris knew Jill was approaching them.

The girl continued to shrink up against the wall, but Chris continued to walk slowly into the room, his badge held out so she could see it carefully. As soon as he was close enough to the bed, Chris knelt down and held the badge out.

"You can take it if you would like…" he said, hoping she would reach out and take the badge. She was looking at it carefully, and while the tears continued to fall, she seemed to relax slightly given the circumstances.

Slowly, very slowly, she reached out and carefully traced the stars on his badge, small fingers pressing against the cool metal.

"Did you find Mommy?" she asked, voice small and cracked as she retracted her hand. Jill had appeared beside Chris, her hand resting on his shoulder as he continued to kneel in front of the child.

"Yes, we found your mommy," Jill said softly, going to sit on the edge of the bed.

"She sent me to bed… and she was reading me a story and she was crying… and she tucked me in and told me to be a good girl before she left," the girl began, voice distant as she toyed with the ear on her teddy bear. "I woke up because I wanted water… and she wasn't in her bedroom so I went looking for her…"

She didn't finish her sentence, and Chris didn't want to hear it. All he wanted to do was get out of the room as soon as possible, his emotions getting the better of him. Jill was talking to the little girl now, and Chris continued to stare at the teddy bear she was holding, unable to look at the little girl in fear of seeing Claire's face once again.

Multiple voices could be heard downstairs now, and Chris took the opportunity to get up and leave, his badge forgotten on the bed beside the girl.

Hurrying down the steps, Chris pushed past the cops who had arrived and stumbled down the icy steps on the porch. Going to the side of the building, Chris collapsed against the house and hunched over himself, willing his emotions to go away.

Why would a parent just leave their child like that? Why would they willingly leave when they knew how much they were depended upon, not just for support but for the love that only a mother or father could give?

"_They're gone, Claire, and they're not coming back."_

"_Why did they just leave us like this, Chris?"_

"_B-because… they had no choice."_

She had a choice.

That woman had a choice, and she decided to leave her little girl. Leave her to discover her body in the middle of the night after committing a selfish, horrible act.

Pressing the palms of his hands against his eyes, Chris was desperate for the tears to go away as he clenched his jaw tight. He would not show his weakness- not here and not now.

He didn't know how long he had been up against the house fighting feelings that continued to haunt him, but he looked up quickly when he heard the crunching of snow as footsteps approached.

Meeting her gaze, Chris let his guard down for a moment and became wrapped in the concern and emotion evident in Jill's eyes.

"Are you okay?" Jill asked, kneeling down in front of Chris. Chris wanted to say he was fine, to brush it off and stand up to continue with the mission, but instead he let out a choked sob and rested his head back against the house.

"No…" he whispered as Jill pulled him into a hug, her gentle fingers combing through his hair as he began to cry softly, tears falling freely.

They stayed together for a while, snow soaking into their pants, making them both wet and cold. And yet they refused to separate, with Chris hanging onto Jill like a lifeline. She was his support at the moment, someone he could trust to help him even when he wouldn't explain why he was so broken. He had never let his guard down in front of anyone before, and he knew he would feel shame and regret later… but that was later.

Finally, Jill pulled away and lifted Chris' chin with her hand, a soft smile on her lips. She didn't say anything, and simply brushed a few tears away from his cheeks before standing up. Jill extending her hand downwards, and Chris took it and let her help him up, his legs numb and tingling from the crouched position he had fallen into.

"You going to be okay?" Jill asked, rubbing his arm gently. Chris was about to reply before he noticed a figure standing a distance away.

"Wesker…" Chris said, his voice quiet.

"We're done here, so you can go home, Ms. Valentine," Wesker said, a hint of anger in his words as he turned his attention to her.

"Did you guys hitch a ride together?" Jill asked, moving a few steps away from Chris as she began to head to her car.

"Chris had to drive past my place in order to arrive here, so he picked me up. Now go home and get some rest. I will see you tomorrow at the office at the usual hour. As well, don't tell anyone about this late night mission."

Jill nodded slowly, eyes looking from Chris to Wesker quickly before she hurried off to her car, arms wrapped tightly around her slim form.

"Let's go," Chris mumbled, walking past Wesker quickly, shoulder bumping against Wesker's with more force than necessary. Wesker took the blow well enough, and followed behind Chris, shoes crunching against the snow.

"What's going to happen to the little girl?" Chris asked as he got in the car. Wesker got in as well and did his seatbelt up before answering.

"I do not know, but child services showed up before we left and I assume she will be taken care of there."

Chris started the car but let it sit for a while, wanting the vehicle to warm up as well as desiring to ask Wesker a few questions while he wasn't distracted by driving.

But it seemed Wesker had other ideas, and beat Chris to the first question.

"Why were you and Jill so close at the side of the house?"

Chris glanced at Wesker out of the corner of his eye, trying to read him. "I… I was uncomfortable given the situation, so I had to leave. Jill was helping me recover from the… shock."

"Did you kiss her?"

"What? No, why the fuck would I do that?" Chris asked, eyebrows furrowed and mouth open.

"You two seemed close, and I was simply wondering if you had decided to go back to women," Wesker said, completely rational in his manners, despite the jealous hint to his questions.

"Wesker, just because she was comforting me doesn't mean I want something from her and she wants something from me. God, you're so socially awkward that I wonder how you function sometimes!" Slamming his hand on the steering wheel, Chris put the car into drive and pulled away from the curb violently, making the wheels spin in the snow for a moment before they were driving in a straight line.

"I was merely curious to know whether or not you were still fretting about your sexuality like some young teenager," Wesker said, irritation in his voice.

"Well I'm not, so just fucking stop talking about it," Chris said, completely fed up with Wesker's attitude at the moment. "And seeing as how you've been able to ask questions, I think it's time I asked one myself. What the hell is up with this bullshit cover-up?"

"There is no cover-up, dear heart, she died of a heart attack and that is that. Now stop talking about it," Wesker said, finally showing real anger.

"Don't call me dear heart right now, Wesker. How the hell are we supposed to trust you as our Captain if you pull shady stunts like this, huh? Did you honestly think Jill and I weren't going to wonder why you said what you said and then take the fucking suicide note and put it in your pocket? The regular police unit doesn't even know about the letter, do they?"

Chris turned a corner sharply and they skidded around the bend, almost running into a parked car. Wesker's knuckles were tight around the ends of the armrests, and Chris could feel the tension in him.

'_Good_,' Chris thought to himself, '_let him get uncomfortable._'

"We're not talking about this, Christopher. Now stop letting your emotions get in the way and drive the car properly before you get us both killed," Wesker growled out, watching as Chris almost skidded the car into another parked one yet again.

Chris gritted his jaw and managed to get them to Wesker's apartment without crashing, but he was still as angry as ever. As soon as he had stopped, Wesker was already undoing his seatbelt and getting out of the car.

"Control your emotions, Chris, or you're going to suffer the consequences." Wesker glared at Chris before slamming the door closed, making the Jeep rock.

Letting out a frustrated growl, Chris threw the door of his car open and stalked after Wesker, intent on getting an answer from him one way or another. He was sick of rolling over for Wesker and letting him walk all over his team.

Catching up to him before he had even reached the other side of the street, Chris grabbed Wesker's shoulder and pulled him around before going to punch him. Wesker managed to grab Chris' wrist just before it made contact, and tried to twist his arm around so he couldn't attack again. Unfortunately for the two men, they both slipped, bodies pushing and pulling against each other as they fell down heavily in the middle of the street.

"I want a fucking answer, you bastard," Chris cried out, not even fazed by the heavy fall. He realized he would feel the impact in the morning, but he didn't care about that now. He had managed to prop himself upwards and immediately climbed on top of Wesker, who began to struggle, his arms becoming pinned above his head and legs spread, a position that Chris knew would make him uncomfortable.

"Get off of me, Christopher," Wesker said, and Chris thought he heard a note of panic.

"Don't like this much, do you? Well I don't like being left in the fucking dark," Chris said as Wesker stopped struggling. A moment passed, and for a second Chris thought he had gotten somewhere, that he had actually _scared_ Wesker into a confession.

That was until Wesker lifted his head quickly, slamming his forehead into the bridge of Chris' nose. Crying out in pain, Chris instinctively reached up to cup his nose as blood began to pour out, and Wesker took the opportunity to shove Chris off of him.

Standing up quickly, Wesker brushed off the snow on his jacket and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"Have you ever stopped to consider the possibility that I don't tell you these things in order to protect you?" he asked, kneeling down to grasp the collar of Chris' jacket. "You should relish in the ignorance I bestow upon you."

Crashing their lips together, Wesker paid little mind to Chris' cry of pain as his nose was once again slammed into forcefully, and instead tangled his tongue with Chris'.

Chris grabbed Wesker's wrist with his bloody hand and held down with bruising force before he bit Wesker's tongue, making him jerk back quickly. Wesker stayed in place for a moment, lips almost touching Chris' as Chris sneered up at him, nose bruising as the blood slowly stopped.

Standing up straight, Wesker looked down at Chris before spitting out blood onto the pure white snow away from the two of them.

"I expect you to listen to whatever I tell you with no questions asked," Wesker finally said before striding to his apartment, opening the door and shutting it firmly behind him. Chris watched him go, and saw him cup his mouth as he turned the corner and went down the hallway towards the elevators.

Standing up after a time, Chris brushed the snow off of his jacket and wiped his hand under his bloodied nose as he stumbled back to his car, the anger gone and replaced by disbelief and a newfound understanding about his lover.

Because it was at that point in time that Chris realized Wesker was a very dangerous man- a very dangerous man that he couldn't seem to tear himself away from.

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_Just as a point of interest- I think this is the first chapter... wait, damn it! Last weeks chapter was the first chapter where I didn't skip ahead or change the scene/setting quickly! Interesting thing I discovered that I thought you all might enjoy knowing too... or not. It's all good. ANYWAYS! Things are getting a little more intense when it comes to work related situations, eh? Can anyone guess why an Umbrella researcher would want to commit suicide? Hmm? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and once again, thank you for all of the reviews/favorites/watches/support. You guys are all fabulous! PS- No, this does not mean I am going to write ChrisxJill- they're best friends, nothing more_


	24. Tenderness

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: None_

**Authors Note: **Next chapter! I just got back from one of my last conventions on the season, and had a killer time! Of course as soon as I got back I was on a big creativity kick, so hopefully it'll translate into a good chapter later on for you guys! I also finally took official photo's of my RE1 and RE3 Jill cosplays! In any case, enough about me and more about... the contest! Because I had a few people request it, I am **extending the deadline for entries to the end of August.** So as soon as September 1st hits, the contest is over and judging shall begin! So hopefully this'll help a few of you out! So yes, new deadline for the contest. That's about it- and of course I need to thank all of you for your support! Thanks so much for the reviews/reads/favorites/etc! You are all awesome!_  
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Chapter 24- Tenderness**

_One night you're here, but next night you're not. It always leaves me searching for a little tenderness. Where is the tenderness- Where is it? ~_General Public

Chris woke up in the morning with a slight headache and a black eye to go alongside his heavily bruised nose. It wasn't a pleasant sight, and for a moment Chris was thankful Wesker wasn't beside him to wake up to see that pleasant bruise spread across his nose first thing in the morning.

That was until Chris remembered Wesker was the one who caused the horrible bruising and tenderness, making Chris squirt his toothpaste out and all over the sink in a fit of rage.

"Fucking Wesker…" Chris grumbled to himself as he went to stuff his toothbrush in his mouth, quickly coating his teeth with minty fresh paste as he tried to comb his hair with his free hand- the late night call last night had seriously delved into his sleeping time, and he had only slept another hour before he had to go back to work.

Spitting out the toothpaste, Chris rinsed his mouth and went to inspect his nose, eyebrows furrowed in pain as he gently pushed it, feeling around to see if it was broken. It wasn't, thank god, but that didn't take away from the pain.

"How am I going to explain this?" Chris asked out loud, pouting a little as he put his shirt on, careful to avoid the neck band from running across the bridge of his nose.

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**XX**

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"Oh my god, Chris! What happened to you?"

Dropping the fake smile, Chris let his grimace show as Mindy ran up to him from her spot near the double doors in the main hall of the RPD. Shoving a few files under her arms, Mindy went to cup Chris' face, making him flinch backward quickly.

"Hey now, don't touch it!" Chris said, taking Mindy's hand in his own. He had been going on the expectation that no one would ask- it wasn't as if he was walking around with a missing arm or anything. Besides, young guys like him got into trouble all the time. A busted nose and a black eye were nothing given his job and his age.

But it seemed like that small notion of hope that no one would say anything was squashed as soon as he had stepped into the station.

"It looks horrible, what did you do to yourself?" she asked once again, squeezing Chris' hand gently.

Glancing down at the floor, Chris thought about last night yet again and had to clench his jaw to prevent himself from letting out another angry growl, or perhaps scream out his anger at Wesker at the top of his lungs in the middle of the station for all to hear. Instead, he kept his composure and looked back up at Mindy.

"Wesker did this to me."

Mindy obviously took the look Chris was sending her as sadness rather than anger as she gasped softly and immediately dragged Chris off in the opposite direction of the STARS office and into a small hallway. Following Mindy's lead, Chris continued to hold onto her hand before she tried to drag him into the women's washroom.

"What the hell, Mindy? I'm not going in there," Chris said, trying to untangle himself from Mindy's tight grip. She didn't seem to listen to him and pulled him in before going to lock the door behind her, the deadbolt sliding into the frame with a resounding slam.

"Wesker did this to you?" she asked as soon as the door was locked and she had turned around to look at Chris.

Shrugging, Chris nodded and went to gently touch his nose. "We got into an argument and it turned violent… as usual."

"Chris…" Mindy frowned and went back to holding Chris' hands as she dumped the folders on the counter. "I see you on a regular basis now with all of these ugly bruises and you talking about something that happened between you two… I'm getting worried about this."

Chris pulled his hands back and stuffed them into his back pockets, a frown appearing on his features. "What do you mean you're getting worried?"

"I don't… well I don't know if this relationship is so healthy, Chris."

"It is fine, Mindy, don't worry. I was the one who attacked him in the first place anyways… He just fought back."

Chris knew that the relationship he had with Wesker wasn't the healthiest thing, but it wasn't as violent as Mindy thought it was. Most of the time he was bruised from a particularly rough sex session they had had the night before, and Mindy just happened to notice his weary face and occasional bruises more than anyone else.

"Chris… that doesn't make it any better and you know that. I just don't want you regretting this later…"

Looking away from Mindy's sympathetic face, Chris stared at the handle of the washroom stall beside him. "It's fine, like I said. We're just really… stubborn guys and sometimes we get a little carried away. I give as much as he gives."

"Yet he never seems to give you back the tenderness you give to him," Mindy said, going to cup Chris' cheek so he was forced to look at her.

Chris didn't want to acknowledge the truth at this point in time, and opted to go down the aggressive route in order to get out of the conversation.

"How do you know, huh? You're not with us all the time we're together- in fact, I think you've only seen us in a work environment, which isn't a lot to go by." Pulling away from her, Chris strode to the door and unlocked the dead bolt just as Mindy tried to reach out to him.

"Chris, just be careful- please?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it," he said before pulling the door open and leaving the ladies' washroom.

Walking as quickly as he could away from the washroom, Chris hurried to his office, where he was already ten minutes late- something he was sure Wesker would use against him, like he did _every_ time he was late.

Mindy didn't have any idea of what his relationship with Wesker was like and she never would. Just because they got violent didn't mean that they were bad for each other- she was getting the idea that he was a defenceless victim in a domestic violence case and not a young man who was in complete control of his surroundings.

Yes, he was in _complete_ control of everything.

Finally making it into the office, Chris opened the door and closed it quietly before going to sit down heavily in his seat. Shrugging off his jacket, Chris glanced around the room and noticed Wesker staring at him from behind his desk- emotions unreadable.

"You're late… again."

Rolling his eyes, Chris tossed his jacket over the armrest on his chair and nodded. "Yeah, had a late night last night and got into a little trouble."

Barry, this time, looked up from his paperwork and gave Chris a startled look, noticing the bruising on his face. Not meeting Barry's gaze, Chris went right to his paperwork before seeing his badge sitting beside his mouse.

Picking it up, Chris fiddled with it for a second before he remembered that he had forgotten it beside the little girl last night. Jill must have picked it up for him…

Turning around in his chair, Chris tapped her shoulder quickly, glancing every so often in Wesker's direction to make sure he wasn't watching the two of them. He seemed to be concerned with his computer screen at the moment, which was fine for Chris.

"What is it you-" Jill began, only to stop when she turned around to see Chris. "Oh… What happened?"

"Last night happened," Chris said before flashing the badge at her. "Thanks for picking this up for me- I forgot about it."

"Oh… Yeah, just don't forget it again, all right? Wesker will kill you next time," Jill said, frowning as she continued to inspect Chris' nose.

Chris' eyes narrowed once again and looked at Wesker, who was still typing away at a document. He continued to stare at his Captain before Jill poked him again, bringing his attention back to her.

"Hey… At lunch did you want to go somewhere close by and… chat?" Jill asked, her gaze going from Chris to Wesker.

Chris could tell she wanted to talk about last night as much as he wanted to, and Chris nodded in agreement before turning back around just as Wesker stood up and left the room with a sheet of printed paper in his hand.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"I'm worried about last night," Jill said, twirling her straw around in her water. "I didn't get any sleep when I got back to my apartment. I kept seeing the little girl, the body, and thinking about what Wesker did… Everything just felt so _wrong_."

"It felt like a cover-up to me- but don't tell Wesker that or he'll give you a bruised nose and a black eye." Pushing a baby tomato around on his plate, Chris looked out the window of the diner they were in and watched the snow fall, deep in thought.

Jill was just as concerned about the events of last night as he was, and he knew that she was likely to get more involved in finding out why they were told to lie. He wished he could say the same about finding out what had happened, but he didn't when he really thought about it…

Already Chris missed those chaste kisses and knowing looks between them- and it had only been a day since the fight.

He hated Wesker and the effect he had on him.

"I didn't want to say anything, but I figured he was the one who hit you…"

"Yeah, I confronted him about the cover-up and things got a little violent… Not one of my crowning moments, though." Turing his attention to Jill, Chris watched her eyes scan over his half-eaten lunch before she looked back at him, the corner of her lips tense.

"Do you think… think we should say something to someone? Maybe Chief Irons or someone else- or maybe investigate it ourselves?" Jill asked after a time, voice low as she stared intently at Chris.

"No."

Chris said it so quickly he wondered if it had come from his mouth, but when Jill gave him a curious look he realized it was indeed him.

"Look, we don't want to get in trouble, and… well, we can't bring the team apart by doing this, you know? If we can't trust our Captain then what are we as a team?" Chris explained, trying to sway Jill to his side.

"So you still trust Wesker?" she asked, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Chris thought for a moment, trying to let their romantic relationship move out of the way so he could answer the question honestly.

"Yeah… yeah, I do," he said after a time, the tight feeling in his chest getting worse.

"Well… well then." Jill nodded once and pushed her plate away. "I guess I will too- but if this happens again I'm going to do something about it."

Chris nodded, having no doubt that she would too- Jill was that kind of person. She wouldn't let personal feelings get in the way of a mission, no matter what.

Chris wished he could say the same about himself.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

A week had passed since the incident at the Umbrella researcher's house, and things were still as awkward as ever.

Wesker and Chris still hadn't talked to each other on a more personal level- in fact, everything Wesker had said to Chris was all work-related and impersonal, with very little eye contact on both of their parts.

Chris knew Wesker was still upset with him for not trusting him during the mission, and would probably continue to stay upset with him until Chris finally bit the bullet and apologized for something he didn't figure he needed to apologize for in the first place. After all, Wesker was the one who was instigating a cover-up and had bruised Chris' face.

And Chris found himself at odds with talking to Wesker on account of not being able to stop thinking about what Jill and Mindy had said. Firstly, Jill was right- something should have been done about the case. And yet, Chris let his personal feelings get in the way of his judgement, something all cops were trained not to do.

But Chris wanted to trust Wesker, even if all of the signs pointed towards the fact that maybe Wesker wasn't someone who you could really depend upon. But Chris wanted to believe that Wesker was just looking out for his team and that there was a reason he did what he did.

But he still felt sick to his stomach when he really thought about it, and he began to have reservations about his own character- was he that easily overcome by desire?

Then there was the situation with Mindy to top it all off.

As much as he brushed it aside, he couldn't shake what she had said about Wesker showing little tenderness towards Chris. He knew that going into a relationship with Wesker wouldn't be one filled with cuddles and confessions of love, but that didn't mean he wouldn't appreciate some sort of sign that he wasn't just a piece of ass in which to pound whenever Wesker felt like it.

Just once, Chris wanted Wesker to give him some sort of sign- like what he was doing wasn't in vain and that Wesker appreciated him in some small way.

This, of course, made Chris angry with himself yet again for wanting something he knew he would never get. And this once again led him to the train of thought about protecting Wesker and not investigating further into something that was clearly not right.

Why was he so ready to defend someone who, by all accounts, seemed to care very little about their relationship either way?

In the end though, Chris needed to speak to Wesker to get some of his questions answered so he could actually sleep at night.

"You left these at my place last time you were over… They've been washed, by the way."

Standing in front of Wesker's desk after hours, Chris held out a pair of black boxer-briefs in his hand, offering them to Wesker.

Glancing up from his paperwork, Wesker eyed the pair for a moment before reaching out for them slowly. "How do you know they're not yours?"

"I don't wear boxer-briefs… Besides, when we went on that mission you put your pants on without anything on under them, so I figured they were yours." Chris shrugged and let Wesker take them before standing awkwardly in front of his Captain's desk.

Wesker tossed them on the keyboard of his computer and sat back in his chair, inspecting Chris carefully. He wasn't wearing his sunglasses, and Chris figured this was the perfect opportunity to talk to him when he couldn't hide behind the black frames.

"So you had those in your back pocket all day before you could give them to me at an appropriate moment?"

Blushing, Chris frowned and rubbed the back of his neck slowly. "Well I couldn't just pass them to you when everyone was in the office… unless you want everyone to know you regularly take your underpants off in my apartment."

Wesker hummed softly and rested his arm on the armrest of his chair, fingers resting against his chin. "You should wear boxer-briefs more often, you know. They would make your ass look… rather nice."

"Did you learn how to flirt in an English boarding school?" Chris asked, smiling slightly. Making a few jokes might ease the tension between the two, and then he could finally ask Wesker some questions.

"Ha, very funny. Take the compliment or not- it's your choice," Wesker replied as he moved to pick up his pen, ready to do some more paperwork. Unfortunately, that would break any further possible conversation between the two, and Chris hurried over to the other side so he could sit on the desk beside Wesker, distracting him long enough that Chris had a chance to grab the pen out of his hand.

"We need to talk, Wesker…" Chris said, ignoring Wesker's glare.

"Talk about what, Christopher?"

"About the mission a week ago, that's what… I just want to know what went on- why you said it was a heart attack when it clearly wasn't."

Wesker moved subtly toward the sunglasses that were sitting on the desk beside his now-discarded underpants, and Chris quickly cupped Wesker's chin and made the man look at him.

"Nice fucking try- now answer me," Chris growled out, making Wesker violently swat Chris' hand away.

"I said it once and I'll say it again- there is no need for you to know. Trust me when I say ignorance is bliss," Wesker said, standing up to go to the fax machine with a stack of papers in his hands.

"Not when it deals with a suicide mission you brought Jill and me on. We were just as much a part of the mission as you were, and we don't enjoy being left in the dark. You do it once to us and then what- every mission we go on we've gotta wear earplugs and blindfolds?" Throwing his arms out, Chris realized his voice was reaching new levels, confusion and annoyance getting the better of him.

"I think you're being a tad dramatic, dear heart," Wesker mumbled as he pushed buttons on the fax, distracting himself from Chris' antics.

"I'm not being dramatic, Wesker! God, how much can I trust you when you do stuff like this? You're my Captain and my lover, and yet I don't know if I should trust what you say anymore!"

Dropping the sheets on the table beside the fax, Wesker looked over at Chris, eyes narrowed. "Firstly, quiet down. Do you want the entire RPD knowing that we're sleeping together? Secondly, you're just going to have to trust me without me explaining certain things to you. Some things are better left unsaid so deal with it in a rational manner and stop talking about it."

"I'll stop talking about it when we can move on from this," Chris said, quieting down a fraction as Wesker resumed his faxing.

"You're the one who can't move on from it. I would have been more than happy to resume our regular fuck sessions, but you're the one who had to make the situation much bigger than it actually is," Wesker mumbled as the last sheet was faxed.

But what Wesker said was the last straw for Chris, and he leapt up from Wesker's desk, a growl escaping his lips. "So that is all you think of this relationship as being? Just putting up with me so you can get into my pants later?"

"Now you're acting like a put-out woman, stop it," Wesker said, going back to his desk while avoiding Chris.

"No, I'm not! I just want some sort of sign that you actually care about me on some small level- that I'm more than just a fuck buddy and your subordinate. Just give me a sign, Wesker, please?"

There was tension in the air between the two men, and Wesker slowly put down the stack, eyes watching the motion carefully as Chris continued to stare at Wesker. It looked like Wesker was about to say something before the phone on Chris' desk began to ring loudly, snapping both of their attention to it.

"You should answer it…" Wesker said after the third ring as Chris continued to stare at it.

Glancing at Wesker, Chris nodded and hurried to his desk, picking it up just in time.

"Hello, Officer Redfield speaking," Chris said, using his professional tone before he heard the voice on the other end.

"Chris? Good, I'm glad I got a hold of you- I tried your apartment but I got no answer so I tried here even though some people said you might have left for home." Chris' aunt's voice carried through to him clearly, and he could hear heavy emotion in her voice coupled with weariness.

"Hey, Aunt Lily… What's up?" Chris asked slowly, sitting down in his office chair.

"Now, Chris, I don't want you freaking out or anything when I tell you this, so please stay calm… Claire was in a motorcycle accident earlier today."

Chris' heart stopped for a moment, and all of the blood from his face left, giving him a deathly pallor in seconds. Claire… his baby sister… in an accident?

No, no, this wasn't happening.

"I-is she okay?" Chris stuttered out, panic in his voice despite his aunt telling him to stay calm. This was his sister she was talking about, how was he supposed to stay calm?

"Yes, she's okay. She has some road rash and a broken arm, but she's okay. She wasn't going that fast and managed to avoid the truck that swerved into her lane without notice." Despite his aunt telling him Claire was okay, it did little to ease his nerves. He didn't even notice Wesker had come and was sitting in the middle of his desk, watching him carefully.

"Is she in pain? Like, was she crying or anything? P-please tell me she didn't cry," Chris said, running a shaky hand through his hair. He hated that he couldn't see her right now- couldn't be there to hold her hand.

He was supposed to protect her…

"Chris, she's a tough girl. She's asleep right now- we just got back from the hospital. She was actually coming down to visit us when it happened, so we were able to pick her up from the hospital once she was cleaned up," Lily explained, and Chris could finally hear the relief in her voice that he seemed to have blocked out before. "She probably won't be able to talk tonight, but call tomorrow morning and you can speak with her, all right?"

"Y-yeah… yeah, I'll call tomorrow as soon as I can… A-and tell her I love her when she wakes up, okay?" Chris said, desperate to talk to her but knowing she must be exhausted.

"I will… And Chris? Don't worry too much- she's okay, all right?"

"Yeah… Thanks, Aunt… I love you too."

Hanging up the phone, Chris looked at it for what felt like an eternity, deep in thought. Claire was all right, but it was a close call. He knew she should have never bought a motorcycle, and he certainly knew that she shouldn't be driving it in the winter, even if they were having warm weather down where she lived.

Suddenly feeling a hand on his shoulder, Chris' gaze snapped up to Wesker's concerned face before going to wrap his arms around Wesker's waist, pulling him close.

Resting his head half on his arm and half on Wesker's thigh, Chris could feel him tense for a moment before he relaxed slightly, as if to give Chris the go-ahead to continue resting there.

"My baby sister was in a motorcycle accident…" Chris mumbled after a time, squeezing Wesker's waist like he was a pillow.

"Is she all right?" Wesker asked, his voice unusually soft. Fingers ran through Chris' hair soon enough, and occasionally Chris felt the pad of Wesker's thumb rub behind his ear, as if to sooth him.

And just like that, all of the tension, frustration, and guilt between the two were gone- simple as that. Instead, it was replaced with Wesker giving Chris that much-needed sign he was so desperate for moments ago.

"Yeah… She broke her arm and she's got road rash… but she's okay. I just wish I could talk to her- to make sure she really is okay and that this isn't some fucked up dream like I thought the last time this happened was…"

"Last time?"

Sighing softly, Chris continued to rest his head on Wesker's thigh, eyes open as he stared off at the door to the hallway outside.

"When I was seventeen… my parents died in a car accident. I… well I tried to convince myself that it wasn't real- that it was all just a dream. But it wasn't… I had lost my parents and I only had Claire left with me. And I was so scared… scared I would lose her too…

"So I vowed to protect her no matter what- that she would never get hurt because I would stop it, that I would protect her from everything harmful… I didn't want her to ever experience the pain of losing someone ever again…"

There was silence after that as Wesker's fingers continued to slowly comb through Chris' messy locks, his movements becoming more sure as he eased into the unfamiliar motion.

"There would have been nothing you could do to stop that, dear heart… You can't protect her from everything- she's a growing woman who will need to learn things for herself, otherwise she will have never really lived…" Wesker said after a time.

Sighing yet again, Chris mulled over what Wesker said, wishing that Claire didn't have to experience the bad things in life. "I'm just so afraid of losing her… of losing anyone who I care about."

"We all are, Chris…" Lifting Chris' chin up, Wesker traced Chris' jaw line slowly, making Chris look at him. "But you're going to destroy yourself with all of this worry you carry around. You're far too young for this."

"Says the guy who's going to have a heart attack at forty," Chris said, trying to smile.

Chris noticed a slight raise in the corner of Wesker's mouth, and figured that was the best smile he would get tonight. Unwrapping his arms from Wesker's waist, Chris stood up and cleared his throat, trying to break away from the previous emotions he had let consume him for a time.

"Don't tell anyone… about this- about what I said," Chris said as Wesker stood up as well.

"Who would I tell?" Wesker asked, but didn't wait for Chris to reply before he kissed him gently. Wrapping his arms around Wesker, Chris pulled him close and deepened the kiss, mouth parting easily for him.

Chris had missed this, as much as he hated to admit it. But he had desperately wanted to kiss Wesker again- to feel that now-familiar body pressed against his own. It was reassuring and… right.

It was some time before they broke, and Chris pulled away to stand a slight distance apart, hand holding onto Wesker's own. "Can you… can you come back to my place tonight? I don't want to be alone right now… I think I'll make myself go crazy with 'what if's' if I don't have someone else with me…"

"I have a lot of paperwork to finish up that needs to be done, so I don't think it would be wise tonight. I'm sorry, Christopher," Wesker said, looking over his shoulder at his desk.

"Y-yeah, I get it. Well, I should be going home now… so I'll see you on Monday?" Chris pulled away from Wesker and went to grab his jacket, throwing it on as Wesker watched.

It was worth a try…

"Yes, I will see you Monday- don't be late again."

"Yeah, yeah, I won't…" Chris sent Wesker a shaky smile and made movement towards the door before he heard a heavy sigh come from behind him, followed by a 'wait'.

Turning around, Chris watched Wesker go to his desk and grab his jacket, putting it on before stuffing his underwear in one pocket and his keys in the other.

"I'll only neglect my paperwork this once," Wesker mumbled out as he went to open the door with Chris following behind, a smile tugging at his lips.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Wesker had one more surprise up his sleeve later that night when they reached Chris' apartment. When they got back, Chris immediately stripped down to his boxers and curled up on his bed while Wesker snagged a pair of pajama bottoms from Chris' dresser before going into the bathroom.

Laying in bed, Chris found himself watching his closed bathroom door, a crack from under the door letting in a small sliver of light. Some time passed before Wesker appeared, all of the gel in his hair gone while wearing only the pair of borrowed pajama bottoms. Turning the light off, Chris followed Wesker's tracks by watching the shadows in the room change.

Curling up into a ball, Chris felt the mattress dip down beside him and prepared himself for the inevitable back turn. Wesker always fell asleep with his back turned to Chris, making Chris resort to having to wrap his arms around Wesker's waist to feign some sort of intimacy.

But this time, Chris felt strong arms wrap around his waist and his back pressed up against an equally strong chest. Tangling their legs together, Wesker kissed Chris' neck gently before finally settling.

"I expect sex when you're feeling better. It's customary, is it not?" Wesker mumbled in the darkness.

"Hot, sweaty, make-up sex?" Chris replied, a small smile forming on his lips as he leaned against Wesker.

"Mm, exactly…" Wesker said, and Chris could already feel himself drifting off to sleep.

Maybe things would work between them… Maybe if Wesker continued to show a little tenderness.

* * *

_Seeing as how last chapter Wesker was such a DICK, I thought I'd even out his behavior a little with some tenderness! Just because I think if Wesker was 100% dickish all the time, Chris wouldn't put up with it for very long and break it off pretty early. And we don't want that, do we? No, we want Chris to enjoy his time with his sociopath boyfriend! Yay~! Anywho's another chapter done, and one step closer to zombies! Or not! I've had a few people ask when the mansion incident will happen, but it wont be for a while. Like I said, I want to take time with this story and I don't want to speed ahead TOO fast. I've asked my beta numerous times if the pace of the story is going well, and she said it is, so hopefully it doesn't drag out and leave you guys bored! Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and thanks once again!_


	25. Confidence

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Mentions of male/male sex  
_

**Authors Note: **Hey guys, if you'll let me pimp out a great thing in this here author note, I'd totally appreciate it. **So please read! **So I'm sure you've all heard about the flooding that is going on in Pakistan, and how aid to the country has been incredibly low. So, there is this donation run going on on LiveJournal called 'help_pakistan', and they're collecting money by letting people donate their services (such as fanfiction writing, original writing, fanart, etc.) and people will bid on a service from someone. Bidding ends August 28th, and once all of that is done, the proceeds from the bidding goes towards numerous different aid relief funds. So I decided to join in on the cause and have offered my fanfiction services up. As I stated before, ALL proceeds go towards an aid relief of my choice (I will be choosing Doctors Without Boarders), and I am willing to match the winning donation! I'll be linking the community itself as well as my personal post on the **top of my profile.** So if you could please check it out and maybe bid, it would be really, really appreciated. All the help these aid groups can get is welcomed, and I know that my government (Canada) is going to match any donation Canadian's make. **So yes, please help any way you can!**

* * *

**Chapter 25- Confidence **

_A successful person is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks that others throw at him or her. _~David Brinkley~

Chris woke in the morning to an empty bed just as he had expected- Wesker did not sleep in, even if it was only nine in the morning. Chris had always thought he would have retained his 'early riser' habit after he left the Air Force, but had found himself sleeping in again only a few weeks after being discharged.

It really wasn't his fault beds were so cosy and warm.

Getting out of bed, Chris shuffled to the bathroom and made use of the toilet before brushing his teeth, the palm of his hand rubbing over the stubble that had once again formed on his chin.

First he would call Claire- see how she was doing and if she sounded all right, then he would start yelling at her. He still couldn't believe she was driving a motorcycle around, despite knowing the dangers. He had been holding onto the small sliver of hope that she would quickly move out of her motorcycle obsession and perhaps move on to something more safe. Like mini-vans or bicycles with training wheels still on them so she couldn't fall.

After calling Claire, then he would see about shaving. He'd been told by a few people (mostly women) that the stubble made him look more rugged and handsome. But Wesker once commented on how he enjoyed it when Chris shaved- he liked the smoothness.

And, although he would never admit it, Chris preferred to keep himself shaved and clean as a whistle. His excuse to himself was it got him laid more often and not that he wanted to please Wesker.

Spitting out his toothpaste, Chris washed his face before venturing into his kitchen/living room to call Claire, but stopped when he was met with the sight of Wesker- still in his borrowed pajama bottoms but with a newspaper in front of him and a pen between his fingers.

"I took the liberty of borrowing your bathrobe so I could go down to your mailbox and get the paper- I hope you don't mind," Wesker said, not even looking up from his crossword puzzle.

"Uh, no… I don't." Chris was a little surprised to see Wesker still hanging about. Maybe Wesker wanted to spend the day with him…?

The idea even sounded ridiculous to himself, but he decided to play along with the notion anyways.

Sitting down at the table across from Wesker, Chris watched him fill out a few more boxes before he finally looked up at Chris.

"What is it?" he asked, putting the pen down before leaning back in his chair.

Shrugging, Chris leaned back in his chair as well. "Curious as to why you're still here, I guess. Usually you're out of here as soon as you're up- desperate for a shower and more paperwork."

"I am not… desperate for paperwork," Wesker said, scratching his shoulder. "In any case, I was waiting to see if you were going to wake up in a funk or not- I can't have one of my men in a bad mood even if it is the weekend. We may need to go on a mission and I can't have you thinking about your younger sibling's welfare."

Chris frowned slightly, but tried not to let the disappointment show too much on his face. "Oh… So you're only concerned about my worth ethic?"

He supposed he should be grateful Wesker showed him so much compassion last night- it was out of character for Wesker to be so comforting and tender with him, especially when Chris was displaying what he figured was a 'weakness'. So he really shouldn't be so disappointed that in the morning Wesker was going back to his usual behaviour.

"For the most part yes, but I was also slightly concerned for you on a more… personal level," Wesker said just as he decided to go back to his crossword puzzle.

Well that just made Chris' week.

"Thanks, Wesker, I really appreciate—"

"Call your sister," Wesker interrupted, going to write in yet another answer.

Rolling his eyes, Chris gave Wesker a lazy salute before going to grab the phone off of the wall. Walking as far away from Wesker as he could with the corded phone, Chris sat down on his lone arm chair and dialled his aunt's place, hoping his uncle didn't pick up. He hadn't talked to the man since Christmas, and he wasn't about to change that.

"Hello?"

"Claire! Thank god you're awake- how are you feeling? Not in pain I hope?" Chris spewed out as soon as he heard Claire's voice. He had planned on keeping a level head, but as soon as he heard her voice all of his plans went out the door.

He could hear a soft chuckle on the other end before she replied. "I'm okay- I'm in a little bit of pain but it's mostly just tender muscle. But I'm already sick of this cast- it gets in the way of everything."

"Did the doctors give you anything for the pain? Like medication or something?" he asked as the tight feeling in his chest that he hadn't even been aware was there began to leave.

"Yeah, just for a few days though- it's not like I was seriously hurt or anything. Just scratched up," Claire said, and Chris could hear the annoyance in her voice. Well at least she didn't sound like she was about to die or anything. And if she sounded all right, then he could finally become the sensible older brother and ream her out for being an idiot.

"Well, now that that's covered… What the hell were you thinking, Claire?" Chris cried out, and he could see Wesker look up from his newspaper quickly before snapping his gaze back down.

"I was being careful, Chris! It's been really warm down here so there was no snow on the roads and most of it was melting on the ground! I had a long weekend and I thought I'd go down to see Aunt Lily- it's faster if I take my motorcycle and not the bus!" Claire cried out, desperately trying to defend herself.

"It was stupid, Claire. You shouldn't even have a motorcycle- they're dangerous vehicles and you need something more fitting for your needs. How about I buy you monthly bus passes you can use to get around the city?"

"Chris, I can't always take the bus. Besides, I'm a big girl now who understands the consequences."

Sighing, Chris shook his head even though she couldn't see it. "No- you're not a big girl yet. You're tough, but you're still my little sister, which means you're always the baby to me. How about I help you buy a mini-van, they're safe!"

Chris could hear Claire laugh on the other end, and he tried not to smile himself. This was serious, god damn it!

"Now you're just being silly, Chris. Look, I appreciate the concern but I'm okay… If it makes you feel better I'll be much more careful this time. I've learned my lesson," Claire said, and Chris could practically hear the twinkle in her eye.

"Fine… But I still think you should get rid of it. Spend the money you get from selling it on new clothes or something," Chris mumbled, picking lint off of his boxers. Chris was about to add something when Wesker coughed in the background and Claire obviously heard it.

"Hey, who's over there right now this early in the morning?" she asked, curiosity mixed with cheekiness in her voice.

"No one- that was no one. Anyways, I love you and take care and call me tomorrow so I can keep track of how you are, okay?" Chris said, already going to hang up the phone.

"I love you too!" Claire said, laughing as Chris hung up.

Staring at the phone for a time, Chris breathed deeply before looking over at Wesker, who was now standing near the table. "That was close, you know… She figures someone stayed the night with me."

Shrugging, Wesker wandered over to Chris and tugged him close, hands braced on either side of Chris' hips.

"And this matters… because?" he asked, going to kiss Chris slowly. Melting into the kiss, Chris forgot the question for a second before Wesker pulled away, a smirk on his lips. Putting his hands on top of Wesker's own, Chris pulled out his best frown to match Wesker's smirk.

"Because firstly, my sister thinks I'm an all-American boy with a love of women and their tits- not a guy and his cock. Secondly, if anyone found out other than— I mean, if anyone found out then we'd be in trouble- co-workers, remember?"

"Other than who?" Wesker asked quickly, his hands grasping onto Chris' hips a little more forcefully.

"No one- I was just mixing my, uh… dreams with reality," Chris lied, trying to get out of what he had said. Wesker didn't know Chris had told his uncle about them, and he wasn't about to let him if he could help it.

"Dreams with reality?" he asked, his grip loosening just a fraction, making Chris relax too.

"I had a dream the other day that Forest found out about us and ended up marrying Jill to a dog because he figured seeing as how two dudes were fucking, then someone should be able to marry a dog…" Chris said, sounding lame even to his own ears.

"It seems like your dream world is rather against homosexuality," Wesker drawled out, one hand straying to Chris' lower back.

"I guess my dream world is just a little… worried, I guess, of what other people think," he said, shrugging as he began to slowly push himself against Wesker, intent on deflecting the conversation to something less dangerous.

Truth be told, Chris was still a little uncomfortable with his new status as being, what many would consider, gay. He still liked women, quite a lot actually, but he'd have trouble explaining that to anyone who saw him making out with another guy. And while he was comfortable with the notion of being with Wesker now, he still realized most people would not be.

And so he occasionally had thoughts- thoughts that ran along the lines of complete and utter fear if anyone found out. Anyone, of course, other than his uncle and Kenneth- at least they hadn't told anyone…

"Hey… How about we partake in that sweaty, hot, make-up sex we were talking about last night," Chris mumbled, figuring sex was the best distraction. Going to kiss Wesker's neck gently, he could still feel the tension in his body and figured he wouldn't be easily fooled.

"I know you're trying to distract me," Wesker said as he titled his head to the side anyways, giving Chris more access to kiss, nip, and lick the skin on his neck.

"Is it working?" Chris mumbled, sucking on Wesker's earlobe.

He could finally feel him shudder, and the grip on his lower back soon travelled lower to squeeze Chris' ass, making him moan softly in Wesker's ear.

"Slightly… Not enough to have me turn my back on the paperwork I left at the office last night, though…" Wesker hummed out as he pushed away from Chris. Letting go more out of shock, Chris watched Wesker make move to go to the bedroom, intent on getting his clothes.

"You're seriously leaving to do paperwork on a Saturday morning?" Chris said, following Wesker into the bedroom.

"I neglected them last night for you, but they really must be done," he said, taking off the pajama bottoms before reaching for his underpants, which were laying on top of his regular clothes.

Watching Wesker bend over, his naked ass fully exposed to his gaze, Chris came to the sudden conclusion that a) Wesker was retarded sometimes, and b) he wasn't going to let him leave without a fight.

"Well… okay, leave if you want," Chris mumbled, going to take off his boxers. Climbing onto his bed, Chris rested against the headboard and spread his legs slightly, a knee rising as he exposed himself to Wesker.

His cock was already beginning to get hard, and his balls were heavy, resting tightly against his body.

Wesker turned around just to see Chris spread before him, a hand trailing down to lazily fondle his cock.

"I was saving myself, you know, for the next time we got together. But now I'm thinking I just can't wait any longer," Chris said, a smile appearing as Wesker tried desperately to seem unaffected.

While Wesker was the king of cool and stoicism, Chris had begun to spend enough time with him that he could see tiny hints in Wesker's face and stance that showed his emotions. A slight tightening of the corner of his mouth when annoyed; head lowered in a defensive position when uncomfortable and on guard; the rolling back of the shoulders when proud and comfortable; and finally, when aroused (other than the obvious erection), Wesker's mouth would always part slightly, and he would take a sharp inhale of air just as his nostrils flared- almost as if he was tasting the air for the smell of Chris in heat.

Wesker became animalistic during sex, and Chris loved it.

"Your paperwork will still be there in a few hours," Chris finally said, watching Wesker drop his underwear. Grinning, Chris opened his legs a little more as Wesker crawled onto the bed and pushed himself close, groins already rubbing together as Wesker kissed Chris hungrily before finishing it off with a sharp bite to his bottom lip.

"You've caught me on a good day, dear heart," Wesker said, pushing Chris roughly against him. Wrapping his arms around Wesker's shoulders and a leg around his waist to keep close, Chris winked and kissed Wesker's upper lip.

"Too bad, because I'm feeling particularly bad today."

And for a second, Chris had almost said it with a straight face… Almost.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

He still didn't really know how this happened, how he was sitting in his Jeep across from Barry's house with Wesker sitting next to him, a case of expensive beer perched on his lap while he gazed outside.

Chris, Barry, Forest, and Joseph has started poker night a few weeks ago, the four of them getting together every Saturday to play a few rounds of poker, unwind from the stressful and exhausting week of work, and chat about varied affairs. It was just a bonding experience for the guys, to let them all know they were still a team, despite the great divide between them all.

But it was Wednesday afternoon when Wesker entered the equation. Chris and Forest had been taking a coffee break in the break room and were talking about poker night when Wesker walked in, making Forest boast about his accomplishments.

"_Man, I kicked all of your asses so bad last week! I am going to be the undefeated champion come the end of the month," Forest said, voice loud enough to carry about the break room._

"_You got lucky…" Chris said, smiling despite Forest's bragging. Chris knew he wasn't the best at poker, and felt little animosity towards Forest winning. But he did feel a lack of spare change in his pants pockets every day… That was a little frustrating. _

"_The champion of what?" Wesker asked as he approached the table, a coffee mug in his hand. Chris looked up and smiled slightly and noticed for the briefest of moments the same smile returned before Forest looked up from his water. _

"_Champion of poker, that's what! I'm undefeated when it comes to playing with the Saturday night gang- I always leave with the most cash." Grinning, Forest winked at Wesker, and Chris was slightly surprised by how friendly Forest was being- it wasn't every day he saw his best friend smile at Wesker._

"_I bet Wesker could beat you," Chris chimed in, taking a sip of his coffee as Forest's grin got even bigger. _

"_I doubt it- do you even know how to play, Captain?" Forest asked, his ego almost suffocating everyone present in the room. _

_Wesker shrugged and sipped his coffee slowly. "I have played it a few times… I remember being good at it, but I haven't played it in so long I could have lost my touch."_

"_I think you should come this Friday and play him," Chris said, grinning as Forest suddenly lost his smile. Wesker had the poker face- even Forest knew that. _

"_I don't want to intrude on all of you," Wesker said, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at Chris- obviously displeased by Chris' idea. _

"_No, it's no trouble at all… I'd like to see you win against me," Forest said, puffing his chest out._

_And at that moment, it had now become a challenge- a matter of honour. _

And so, this is why Chris found himself sitting in his now-cooling car as Wesker inspected his surroundings, delicate fingers playing with the cardboard handle on the beer carrier.

"You don't… you know, have to hang out with us if you don't want to. I know you think this is a waste of time and—" Chris began, only to have Wesker open the door of his car.

"I said I would challenge him, and I cannot walk away from it now," Wesker explained as he stepped out with Chris following suit.

Wesker had spoken before about how he wasn't looking forward to spending the evening with men he didn't believe had anything particularly enlightening to talk about, but Chris figured it would be a good thing for Wesker to talk to his teammates and subordinates on a more friendly basis and told him so. It would be good to build further trust with the men he was supposed to lead into dangerous situations.

The idea seemed to appease Wesker for a time, and Chris figured that was what Wesker was thinking as the two of them walked up to Barry's house.

Stopping Wesker before they reached the door, Chris looked around to make sure the coast was clear before going to kiss Wesker quickly, catching the corner of his mouth as he turned to look at Chris.

"What was that for?" he asked just before Chris kissed him again, making Wesker catch his bottom lip in a soft bite.

"Thanks… for giving this a try," Chris said, smiling.

Wesker seemed like he was going to go in for another kiss before he shrugged and continued up to Barry's house, leaving Chris to follow.

Ever since they made up a week ago, they had been all over each other. While Chris took an opportunity to kiss Wesker whenever he could, he was surprised to find Wesker sneaking in kisses now and again, even when they were at work. Of course, no one was around when it happened, but it still shocked Chris. Wesker usually refrained from instigating anything too intimate while at the office, and it was usually Chris voicing his desires rather than Wesker.

Chris was tempted to call it the 'Honey Moon' phase of their relationship, but knew Wesker would probably kick his ass if he did so.

Ringing the doorbell, the two men stood outside for a moment, shoulders pressed together before the door opened, making them pull apart in a casual fashion. Barry's cheery face greeted them, and the warmth and light from inside created an inviting space.

"Hey, guys, glad you two could make it!" Barry opened the door wider, letting them inside and out of the cold. Closing the door, Barry accepted the beer Wesker had passed him, a slightly surprised expression on his face.

"I don't drink beer, but I have heard it on good authority that this draft has a subtle but rich flavour to it," Wesker explained, taking his coat off while Chris tried desperately not to laugh.

"Well thanks, I'm sure the rest of us will enjoy it," Barry said, obviously used to Wesker's formal manners.

Following Barry into his house, Chris watched Wesker out of the corner of his eye as the man inspected the house as they walked down the hallway, passing the living room and kitchen before entering the dining room where Joseph and Forest were already sitting at the table.

As soon as they walked into the room, Forest lost the grin that had been on his lips mere moments ago, instead replaced with slightly parted lips- almost like a fish.

"Didn't expect him to come, did you?" Chris said, grinning as the two of them sat down while Barry went off to finish fixing the snacks.

"No, no, I knew he'd come- although, Wesker, you better be ready to lose," Forest said, quickly regaining his composure while Joseph casually shuffled the cards, a smirk on his lips.

"I don't know, man, you look pretty freaked out," Joseph said, shaking his head slowly. "Afraid you might lose?"

"I am not going to lose," Forest said, leaning back in his chair.

Meanwhile, Wesker didn't really seem to be paying attention to the conversation, and was instead inspecting the table, tracing his fingers along the dark lines that strayed across the rich brown-coloured wood. Chris was about to nudge Wesker when Barry and Kathy walked into the room, snacks and drinks in their hands.

As soon as Wesker saw Kathy, he stood up and helped her put the food down before shaking her hand, a small smile on his features.

"Hello, you must be Kathy. I am Albert Wesker- it's a pleasure to finally meet you," he said, going to kiss the top of her hand.

Chris could hear a small gagging sound coming from across the table, coincidentally the same place Forest was sitting.

Kathy blushed a deep red, and Barry shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. Chris figured if it was anyone other than Wesker doing this he'd have him in a headlock in five seconds flat.

"It is certainly nice to meet you as well, Mr. Wesker. Barry talks so fondly of you and I was beginning to wonder when I would get to meet you," she replied, taking her hand back.

"And he speaks often of you as well, alongside talk of your two children," Wesker said before looking around the house briefly. "I must commend you on your style choices- your home is beautifully decorated, and I am quite taken with your dining room table. It is walnut, is it not?"

"Oh yes, yes it is! My mother gave it to me before she moved into the nursing home. It's been in the family for years." Kathy's smile got even brighter if at all possible, and everyone in the room save for Wesker and Kathy rolled their eyes.

If Chris didn't know from first hand experience how much Wesker liked to suck cock, he'd have been more jealous of the way Wesker was putting the moves on Kathy.

"Can we please start playing?" Forest asked, breaking up the conversation between the two of them just as they began talking about the antique market in England.

"Oh, I'm sorry I've delayed your game!" Kathy said, already heading out of the room. "But thank you, Mr. Wesker. We really must talk further about antiques later!"

"It would be a pleasure," Wesker said as he went to sit back down beside Chris, the small smile on his lips automatically disappearing, instead replaced with his usual impassive expression.

"… Antiques?" Chris asked after a moment of silence between all of them.

"I research many things- it's important to be knowledgeable about a variety of different topics. You never know when it might come in use," Wesker explained before looking at Forest. "Now, then… Shall we play?"

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"I think I just cleaned out my entire saving's account," Forest mumbled, eyes downcast as he looked at his last chip.

Everyone was looking at Forest, watching the way the man looked visibly defeated as he played with his last chip, fingers twirling it around.

Well, everyone except for Wesker, who was counting another row of chips, just one of the many that circled him to make a small fortress. It would be an understatement to say that Wesker had destroyed them all- never once giving away his hand in his movements or facial expression.

Near the end, when Forest began to get more and more desperate, he called Wesker out on wearing sunglasses, to which Wesker responded by taking them off and winning another round.

Barry, Joseph, and Chris had long since given up, deciding that what they had lost was good enough, and that there was no way they would win against the terminator himself. Unfortunately, Forest refused to believe he could be beaten, and desperately tried to claim his crown once more.

But to no avail.

"We should have just played strip poker- would have lost a lot less," Joseph said, making Barry laugh and Forest smile a fraction.

"Yeah, I think it would have turned out a lot better, why didn't you come up with that idea before?" Barry asked, playfully punching Joseph on the shoulder.

"Hey, I would have totally done strip poker, only…" Forest suddenly trailed off, eyes looking at Wesker quickly before back at his poker chip.

"Only what?" Wesker asked, head cocking to the side as he inspected Forest. Chris sat beside Wesker and watched as the man's body tensed a fraction while the air around them grew thick.

"Well, you know… I mean… are the… well, are the rumours true? I mean… are you gay?" Forest asked, finally looking up at Wesker to meet his gaze.

"Hey, I don't think—" Chris began, trying to get out of the conversation that affected him more than anyone other than Wesker knew. Usually when this topic came up it left Chris feeling even more defeated about his lifestyle choice- especially when his best friend went on his usual ignorant tangent about homosexuality.

"Yes, they are true. I am a homosexual male, but I do not see how this is of any concern to you. What I do in the bedroom is not connected to work, and therefore is none of your business," Wesker replied, voice cool and distant.

"Well I know, but… Well, if we played strip poker, I mean…" Forest shrugged and placed the poker chip on top of the table.

"Just because I am gay does not mean I want to have sex with every man I see- and having a man take his clothes off in front of me will not make me suddenly need to rut with said male. Besides, you flatter yourself far too much- you are not my type.

"Now… now that that is out of the way, I expect this won't cause any strife between us at the workplace?" Wesker asked, jaw clenching.

Forest and Wesker continued to stare at each other while Chris, Barry, and Joseph looked on, all three of them fidgeting as it grew more and more awkward. Finally, Forest snapped and looked away, shrugging once again.

"No, it won't. You're right, none of my business," Forest mumbled.

"Good… Now, Chris, I feel it's time we leave," Wesker said, bringing Chris back to reality. He was about to ask Wesker why they had to leave together before he realized they had come together, making Chris suddenly feel very uncomfortable. What if they suspected?

Shaking off the stupid thought, Chris stood up and helped Wesker clean up some of the chip bowls and beer bottles while Barry stood up, attempting to stop them.

"Hey, Kathy and I will clean that up, you don't have to worry about it," he began before Wesker snatched an empty bottle out of his hand.

"This is the least I can do for you opening your home to me tonight," Wesker said as Barry slowly sat back down, nodding.

"Well, if you insist…"

"I do," Wesker said before leaving for the kitchen, Chris trailing behind like some small child.

When they were behind the swinging door of the kitchen and alone, Chris let out a heavy sigh and put the bowls down beside the sink.

"That was pretty awesome, you know… telling Forest off. He's been saying and making references to shit like that for a while now and I never said anything," Chris said, watching Wesker rinse out the beer bottles.

"As I have stated before, people like him may suffer in their blind ignorance. I will only step in if that ignorance interferes with my work," he said, lining the bottles up along the back of the counter.

Chris nodded and leaned against the counter, deep in thought while he watched Wesker. He wished he could be so comfortable about it- about being attracted to some guys. Wesker always seemed so… collected and confident when it came to almost everything, and Chris envied that about him sometimes.

The only conversation he ever had about his relationship with another man ended with him being unable to defend his position- he had felt useless when his uncle yelled at him.

"Hey… Can I tell you something… when we get back to your place?" Chris asked, going to take Wesker's hand in his own after he had finished cleaning the bottles.

Wesker paused a moment, eyebrows furrowing before he nodded, squeezing Chris' hand before pulling away to go back into the dining room to say goodbye.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Chris held off telling Wesker what he wanted to say until he was holding him close, their chests pressed together while Wesker lay in his customary spot between Chris' legs.

Letting the afterglow run its course, Chris ran his hands through Wesker's hair as he rested his head on Chris' shoulder, breathing evening out after their frantic coupling. Staring up at the ceiling, Chris continued to battle with himself, trying to decide if he should tell Wesker about his conversation with his uncle.

The worst that could happen would be Wesker getting angry with Chris for letting it slip and in the process endangering both their careers and relationship. The best that could happen would be Wesker would understand and let it slide- maybe even have some more harsh but true words of advice.

Chris really didn't want Wesker to be angry. After all, they had just gotten over another fight and he wasn't ready to give up their 'Honey Moon' phase just yet.

"You've stopped," Wesker mumbled against Chris' shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"What?" Chris said while Wesker moved away from Chris to lay down beside him.

"You stopped combing my hair… You're thinking about something," Wesker said while Chris moved away from the wet spot before rolling over onto his stomach, arms wrapping around his pillow while he rested his head on it.

"Yeah… I was thinking about if I should tell you what I wanted to or just keep quiet," he said as Wesker scooted over to make room for him.

"Now that you've said that I think you should tell me."

Sighing, Chris stuffed his face in his pillow before lifting it to look at Wesker, taking a moment to admire his dishevelled appearance before he ruined the mood. "I told my uncle about the two of us."

Nothing was said for a moment, and Wesker looked at Chris before he ran a hand through his messy hair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

"That was very foolish of you," he mumbled, resting his back against the headboard. Chris frowned and continued to hug the pillow. "How did he react?"

"He got angry… upset and unwilling to listen. He doesn't approve of homosexuality- went on about how it was disgusting and an abomination. Then he freaked because we work together..." Chris mumbled, looking up at Wesker.

Wesker sighed yet again and looked outside his bedroom window before back at Chris. "Is this why you've been so insecure about our relationship the past month?"

"Maybe a little." Sitting up, Chris moved to rest against the headboard too, shoulder pressed against Wesker's. He could really use a smoke right now…

"Are you going to continue to let it affect your own views?" Wesker asked after a time, hand going to trace Chris' jaw line.

"I don't want it to, but I just don't know how you do it. How you don't let anything affect you… You're always so calm and confident about everything, even when someone is pretty much accusing you of being a pervert because of your sexuality." Looking down at his hands, Chris relaxed slightly under Wesker's caress and reached up to take his hand in his own.

"We're two completely different people, dear heart. We think differently, we react differently, and we deal with situations differently- it's what makes us—"

"Different?" Chris asked, finishing Wesker's sentence with a cheeky smile.

"… Yes, that's what makes us different. You're volatile, Christopher- you let your emotions get to you when it comes to your personal life… But that's not always a bad thing," he said, letting Chris fiddle with his delicate fingers.

"Funny, you seem to think it is and tell me every chance you get," he said while getting off of the bed. Walking over to Wesker's dresser, Chris played with the leaves of a small potted plant, frowning.

"What I am trying to say, Chris, is that you can't compare yourself to me or anyone else. You handle your situations in a different manner, but that doesn't make it any better or worse than how I do it. You should stick with your gut reaction- if you're uncomfortable with this, then we should end it. I hired you for your ability to gauge the situation accordingly, and I expect you to handle yourself in such a manner," Wesker drawled out, almost as if he was terribly bored with the conversation.

Picking a leaf off of the plant, Chris turned to look at Wesker, trying to gauge his real emotions. He couldn't, unfortunately- the poker face was once again present.

"So you're saying you want to break up?" he asked after a time, going to sit on the edge of the bed.

"No, I am wondering if you do, though."

"And say if I did… would you be upset?" Chris asked, keeping his eyes locked with Wesker's.

"It's not my decision. You're the one uncomfortable with the entire affair, so it's your decision."

"No, I want to know if you'd be upset if I stopped coming over to be with you." Chris scooted closer to Wesker, intensity in his eyes.

If he could just get Wesker to admit…

Rolling his eyes, Wesker looked away for a moment before glancing back at Chris through his messy bangs. Chris noticed the clenching of his jaw before he spoke, his words sounding forced. "Yes… I would be."

Chris was honestly surprised by the confession, but appreciated it none the less. Wesker wanted this relationship as much as he did, and that brought confidence to Chris in his decision to stay with him.

"Well good, because I don't want to end it. Look, I know I have a tendency to freak out over things when it comes to… you know, being kinda gay, but I don't want to stop this because of it. It's just taking me more time to get used to it than it took you, because, you know… we're _different_," Chris explained, finally crawling back onto the bed so he was laying close to Wesker. "But can you be a little more understanding next time I have a question about our relationship and homosexuality in general?"

Wesker hummed softly and scooted down so he, too, was laying back down. Grabbing the blankets that had been pushed to the bottom of the bed, Wesker tossed them over their nude forms and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"I suppose I could do that… Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Next time you have such a crisis, don't bring it up late in the evening right after sex, because frankly I am exhausted and I could have just given you some very bad advice- I probably won't remember any of this come the morning," Wesker said as Chris slid closer, an arm wrapping around his waist.

"Are you trying to get out of the confession of you wanting to be with me?" he asked, a grin spreading across his face before kissing the corner of Wesker's mouth.

"What confession?"

* * *

_That pesky thing called homophobia has popped up again! But thankfully we have Wesker here who doesn't give a shit about what other people think to help Chris along the way! Anyways, this is one of the 'sweeter' chapters again, and next chapter is maybe... Wesker's birthday? Oh, isn't that exciting? But uh, enjoy these nicer chapters while you can because soon things are going to start to get a little less happy and a little more tense. And then maybe it'll get good again? Of course only to get bad again. Anyways, yes, I hope you liked this chapter! Thank you for the awesome support you've all been giving me- I really, really, REALLY appreciate it! I wouldn't be here without your guys support~! _


	26. Birthday

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Graphic Male/Male sex  
_

**Authors Note: **Guess what? It's WESKER'S BIRTHDAY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY WESKER- HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR COCK! -cough- Anyways, this is a smutty, smut filled chapter. It's sort of written because I needed to write something to break up the drama and the heavy themes that have been prevalent throughout the last few chapters, and I also wrote this for my wonderful beta, Misspumpkinhead, as a thank you for doing such a fabulous job of kicking my ass every time I made stupid mistakes. **Also, **the contest is now CLOSED! I want to thank everyone who joined, who showed and interest, and who supported my crazy idea! I listed all of the people who entered with their story name beside them, so if they post their story online, please go and review and read to support them! I got a lot of amazing entries, and judging is going to be hard! But my fellow judges and I will manage somehow! So again, thank you! **  
**

* * *

**Chapter 26- Birthdays**

_The first sign of maturity is the discovery that the volume knob also turns to the left. ~Jerry M. Wright_

"Why are we here?"

"We're here for your birthday, of course."

"I thought you were going to bring pie and let me take you… repeatedly."

"Yeah, you're still getting all of that, just in a new environment- a pricey, but clean and elegant new environment."

Chris gently nudged his shoulder against Wesker's and smiled, watching him look out the large window in the hotel room that overlooked the downtown area.

Chris had fretted over what to do for Wesker's birthday for weeks, trying to decide on how to make it special without freaking him out too much. Wesker had already said he didn't want anything in the first place, so deciding to rent out a beautiful hotel room (on Valentine's, no less) for his birthday may have been pushing it, but Chris was more than willing to take that chance.

"How did you manage to get such a room on Valentine's Day?" Wesker asked finally, turning his head to look at Chris through his sunglasses.

"I know a guy who knows a guy who dates a girl who works here… I pulled some strings, bought the guy a pack of smokes, and… well, here we are! It's nice… isn't it?"

Chris thought it was a fantastic room- in fact, he felt a little out of place here, even wearing a nice pair of black pants with a forest green dress shirt he had laying around.

They were standing in the living room area, cream coloured walls going well with the warm yellow lighting, dark wood furniture, and large, crimson curtains that rested on either side of the wall-length window. Off behind the double doors was the bedroom where a king sized bed sat, covered in white sheets and entirely too many red pillows. The bedroom as well had a large window, and Chris grew excited at the prospect of being fucked with the possibility someone was watching from the apartment building across the way.

Of course, the idea also terrified Chris, but he wouldn't let that get in the way of having mind-blowing sex.

"It is… very nice," Wesker said, walking away from Chris to go into the bedroom, his overnight bag still in his hand. Dropping it by the door, Wesker moved to run his hand along the top of the bed, feeling the softness of the sheets. "I still don't know why you did all of this."

Snorting softly, Chris moved to wrap his arms around Wesker's waist and rested his chin on his shoulder. "Can't I do something nice for you? You always look so… tired and stressed. I thought I'd do something special for you and see if you're capable of relaxing."

Of course, there was more to it than that. Chris had begun to see their relationship developing into just that- an actual relationship. He knew Wesker sensed the change in their attitude towards each other as well, but would never admit it out loud. No longer was it simply just two guys fucking. Now Chris was almost comfortable to say they were a couple. And couples did nice things for each other on their birthdays.

Chris could see Wesker's trademark smirk out of the corner of his eye and placed a quick kiss on his cheek before he moved away to let Wesker continue to inspect the hotel room, knowing how much he preferred to know his surroundings inside and out.

Going back into the living room, Chris sat down on the couch and gave himself a moment to think through what he had planned for the evening. He was going to do a few things that he'd never done before- never really thought of doing, in fact. But Wesker… well, Chris wanted to wow him. It was his birthday and even though he'd refuse to admit it, it was an important day. And such a day required something new and exciting for the two of them.

He had it all planned out, but it was just a matter of actually working up the nerve to go ahead and do it. He was going to put himself out there tonight, and he'd hope Wesker wouldn't laugh at it.

"Are you all right?"

Wesker's voice snapped Chris away from his thoughts and he looked up from the floor. He was leaning against the doorframe casually, sunglasses already off, which let Chris see the curiosity in his eyes.

Not concern, just curiosity.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just zoned out for a second." Smiling, Chris stood up and followed Wesker back into the bedroom. Feeling a hand ghost over his ass as he passed, Chris couldn't help but laugh again. "I see you're already ready for your present."

"I've been ready for a while, Chris… You've held out on me for the past week," Wesker said as Chris turned around to let Wesker wrap his arms around him, lips finding a place on his neck.

"Just wanted to make sure we'd be nice and ready for a long, hard fuck," Chris mumbled as Wesker trailed more kisses across his neck before stopping just at his collarbone.

"You're wearing a necklace," he said, pulling away to try and get a look at the chain around his neck.

"Yeah, they're my old dog tags. You may or may not have let it slip during sex one time that you like the idea of fucking an ex-service man… So I thought I'd complete the image." Chris smiled as Wesker stuffed his hand down his shirt to pull them out.

Inspecting the tags for a second, Wesker hummed softly before capturing Chris' lips in a brutal kiss, hand tightening around the tags as he tugged Chris close, almost possessing him with his stance alone.

Moaning into the kiss, Chris lost himself for a moment before he felt Wesker begin to tug at his shirt, bringing him back to reality and with it the possibility that Wesker was going to ruin one of his surprises.

"Hey, not so fast… You don't get to unwrap your present," Chris said, pulling away slightly from Wesker, who was already looking irritated.

"I thought the purpose of a birthday gift was letting the recipient unwrap it," he said, allowing Chris to pull him to the bed, despite his annoyed appearance.

"Yeah, not this time. But it's part of your gift so don't complain." Sitting Wesker down on the bed, Chris kissed him deeply one last time before pulling away, hoping Wesker's always-present courage would make its way over to him.

Taking a deep breath, Chris walked a short distance to stand in front of the window before winking at Wesker as he slowly started to sway his hips to an unheard beat while his hands travelled down to untuck his shirt slowly.

Yes, he was doing a strip tease.

He didn't know where the idea came from, but he was laying in bed one night, thinking about something that probably led him to the idea of sex (although that really wasn't difficult- he was male and therefore almost anything could lead to the idea of sex) when he got the idea of stripping for Wesker. He figured it would be a way for him, in some small way, to dominate Wesker for just a moment- to have complete control over their coupling.

It seemed like a good enough idea, and Chris just hoped he would be able to do a damn good job.

Wesker seemed like he was going to say something before a sudden shift in the air occurred as Chris started to undo the buttons on his shirt. Closing his parted mouth, Wesker sat back on his hands and titled his head to the side, a smirk appearing on his lips as Chris' hands continued to make slow work of the buttons.

Biting his bottom lip, Chris shot Wesker an equally fitting smirk before all of the buttons were undone to expose his tanned torso and dog tags to him. He continued to sway his hips slowly as he turned around, letting the shirt fall to the floor and expose his toned back, muscles flexing slightly as he pulled his shoulders back, letting Wesker see just exactly how much power he dominated on a regular basis.

Continuing to move his hips, Chris slid his hands around to grasp his ass for a second, squeezing and letting out a teasing moan before sliding his hand back in front, palming his groin to let out another huff.

Finally turning around, Chris fiddled with his dog tags before sliding his hand downwards and over his abs until he had gone all the way down, fingers slowly going through coarse dark hair. Looking down at Wesker through heavy-lidded eyes, Chris flipped open the button on his low rise pants before sliding the zipper down, watching Wesker's reaction.

For the most part Wesker was staying still, but at some point in time when Chris was turned he had undone the first few buttons on his shirt, revealing his pale collarbone and chest to Chris.

Not letting it affect him, Chris continued to pull the zipper down until it could go no further, and turned back around to take his pants off, bending over all the way to take them off completely and give Wesker a peek at his still-covered buttocks.

Turning around once again, Chris was left only in his black boxer-briefs, a pair he had picked up after Wesker said he should try wearing them. Running his hand along the band of the underpants, Chris continued to move slowly and sensually, noticing Wesker's nostrils flare slightly, giving Chris that much-needed indication that he was enjoying this.

Giving Wesker another sly grin, Chris suddenly slid his hands down the front of his underpants, grasping his growing arousal in his hand to pump it a few times, gasping softly as he did so. Closing his eyes, Chris made himself get lost in the sensation for a moment before opening them slowly, his hand retreating out his underpants and back around to run over his ass.

Finally deciding to give Wesker a little taste, Chris moved forward and went to straddle Wesker, grinding down on him at the same pace he had been moving before, head tilting to the side as Wesker snatched his dog tags and tried to pull him even closer.

Not letting him, Chris continued to tease Wesker with the possibility of a kiss, grinding down slowly and pressing against an equally hard organ. Licking his bottom lip, Chris felt Wesker's hand go to his ass, squeezing hard before Chris finally pulled himself completely away, returning to his spot in front of Wesker and the entire Raccoon Downtown core.

Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his boxer-briefs, Chris turned around once again and shot Wesker another smile over his shoulder before pulling them down and off, his nude ass bare to Wesker. Standing up and tossing the underwear down to where the rest of his clothes had been thrown, Chris swayed his hips from side to side before he turned around for the last time, biting his thumb while grinning at Wesker.

Sauntering over to him, Chris went back to Wesker's lap, his dick getting harder with every lust-filled gaze Wesker gave him.

There was silence between the two for a moment, and for a split second Chris thought maybe Wesker hadn't enjoyed it as much as he thought he had, and that maybe in his lust-addled brain he just read the signs differently.

"Uh… You can kiss your present now," Chris finally said before he was roughly thrown onto the mattress with Wesker suddenly on top of him, body pressing close while hands grabbed him fiercely, almost bruising with the force at which he was holding. Letting Wesker kiss him passionately, Chris found himself pulling Wesker close, one hand grasping the collar of his shirt while the other clutched at his shoulder, a desperate attempt to gain some semblance of reality in the already incredibly submissive position he found himself in.

It seemed taking away just a small bit of Wesker's control, even for a second, unleashed the animal inside Wesker.

Breaking the kiss, Wesker stuffed his face in the crook of Chris' neck, breathing in his scent before biting down and sucking on the skin, making Chris groan from both pleasure and pain.

"H-hey, calm down, you're not even undressed," Chris managed to get out as Wesker grasped his thighs and spread his legs further. Managing to get his hands between their bodies, Chris began to undo Wesker's shirt as Wesker continued to ravish his neck, kisses and bites being applied all the way up until he was sucking on his earlobe.

Wesker growled softly and sat up quickly, hair still perfectly in place except for one single strand. Chris thought about how he would have to correct that and muss it all up as soon as possible while Wesker began to undress himself, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to make quick work of the rest of the buttons.

"I see I managed to have some effect on you with that little show," Chris said, getting his breath back while sitting up as well to kiss under Wesker's chin and across his jaw, hands helping to pull the garment off.

"You certainly did, dear heart," Wesker almost purred out while he let Chris kiss his neck and run his hands through his hair. Finally pulling away, Chris let Wesker take his pants and underpants off before he was grabbed yet again and forced down upon the bed, legs being spread wide so they could grind and thrust against each other's nude bodies.

Pleased with the way Wesker took his strip tease, Chris began to consider his other 'surprise' as a good one as well, and decided to follow through with his plans. Hooking his legs around Wesker's waist, Chris managed to roll the two of them over so Chris was straddling Wesker, a mischievous grin on his flushed features.

"What are you doing?" Wesker asked as Chris began to kiss his collarbone, teeth grazing the skin lightly. Feeling him shiver slightly, Chris looked up at Wesker, who had moved himself so he was resting back on his arms, a confused look ghosting over his already lust-filled gaze.

Giving him a coy smile, Chris simply shrugged and continued to kiss downwards, stopping to suck on a nipple, something he'd done before but never with the intention of going lower. But tonight he was going all the way.

He had never given anyone a blowjob, and truth be told he had never even considered the possibility that one day he might very well be giving one, even when he was with Wesker. The idea seemed strange, and he'd heard from a lot of girls that it didn't taste very good and it would hurt your jaw after a time.

But Wesker had done it for him on numerous occasions now, and Chris was beginning to feel bad about the fact that he'd never done it. After all, if Wesker would push past the salty, bitter taste and the cramping jaw to pleasure Chris, then he should return the favour at least once.

This was the frame of thought he kept himself in as he continued to kiss down Wesker's abdomen, hands sliding up and down Wesker's strong thighs as he did so. He could still feel the tension and apprehension in Wesker's body, and tried to sooth it away by stroking his hard cock, feeling the velvet skin glide under his hand.

Chris would never grow tired of how erotic and sensual it was to touch Wesker so intimately, to slide his hand along his shaft, knowing that those soft gasps and tender growls were because of what _he_ was doing.

He also liked the idea that no one else got to do what he did- no one else got to touch him the way he did on a regular basis, and if he had it his way, no one ever would again.

Wesker was all _his_.

Finally getting all the way down, Chris took a moment to steady himself while he stared at the tip of Wesker's cock, eyes watching the pre-cum bead up before looking up at Wesker. Kissing his inner thigh, Chris kept the eye contact between them and couldn't help but moan softly.

Wesker's eyes were half closed as he glanced down at Chris, mouth slightly parted while his chest rose and fell a little faster than usual. "You don't have to go through with this if you don't—oh dear god."

Wesker didn't get the last part out properly on account of Chris immediately going down, lapping at the tip of his cock before going to suck on it, tongue swirling around the head before gliding down the vein a short distance. He wasn't an expert at all, but he had already decided his limit before he would gag, and figured he'd just concentrate on the tip and use his hands to stimulate the rest of the shaft.

It didn't taste the greatest, but the fact that he was sucking _Wesker's_ cock made him moan softly around the tip, head beginning to bob as he moved up and down, trying to give Wesker as much pleasure as an unskilled blowjob could be.

Wesker seemed to be enjoying it enough, his hand going down to run through Chris' brown locks before grasping a few in a tight hold, suddenly controlling the pace at which he would move. Chris growled softly around Wesker's cock, but it turned more into a muffled moan as Wesker thrust gently upwards, completely controlling the motions.

Chris didn't mind too much, and let Wesker control the pace and the speed while he concentrated on sucking and licking, breathing only becoming an issue after some time. Finally pulling up, Chris took a deep breath and looked back up at Wesker, tongue going to slide down the main vein of his cock before going back up to suck some more pre-cum. Pulling away, a thin strand of spit stayed connected to the tip of Wesker's cock, and Chris looked up just in time to see Wesker bite his bottom lip.

"You're incredibly sexy right now, Christopher," Wesker purred out, letting go of his hair to rub the skin right behind his ear, a smirk on his features. Chris hummed softly and went to kiss the side of Wesker's cock before moving back up Wesker's body, feeling all together entirely pleased with what he had managed to do.

It didn't last long and Wesker had pretty much taken complete control, but maybe next time he did it, it would be longer and he'd get to take more control.

Maybe next time he could do it at work under Wesker's desk…

"I want you to fuck me now," Chris whispered, biting Wesker's bottom lip before kissing him deeply. Feeling hands grasp his ass, Chris moaned into the kiss and let Wesker's fingers slide up to his lower back before down and around his ass, stopping to spread his cheeks and press a finger against his entrance.

"I need the lube…" Wesker mumbled as they broke the kiss, Chris already rocking back into Wesker's hand.

"Why can't you g-get it?" Chris asked, groaning as his eyes closed.

"Because you're still on top of me," Wesker replied, hands leaving Chris' ass for a time to go and run along his thighs that were still straddling his waist.

Opening his eyes, Chris looked down and laughed softly, shaking his head. "Yeah, it appears I am."

Getting off of Wesker and the bed, Chris hurried over to his discarded overnight bag, opening the top to quickly shuffle through clothes and toiletries before finding the friendly little blue bottle that fulfilled so many of his fantasies.

Standing up and turning back around, Chris found Wesker pushing the comforter back on the bed, and realized that they almost had sex on top of the sheets- like they always seemed to do.

Climbing back onto the bed, Chris kissed Wesker as he passed him the bottle, hands interlocking for a moment around it. Groaning softly as Wesker nipped his bottom lip, Chris pulled away and made movement like he was going to lay back down on the bed before an arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back.

"What are you doing?" Chris asked, looking up at Wesker. Tugging Chris close against his chest, Wesker let Chris run his hands through his hair, pulling at the shorter locks in the back while he tilted his head to the side, eyes looking down their connected bodies. Sliding his hand up Chris' back, he sent him a smirk before going to cup his cheek, fingers gripping his jaw tightly.

"W-what is it?" Chris asked yet again, body starting to ache as the two stayed upright by resting on their knees.

"I want you to ride me," Wesker whispered before licking his bottom lip, biting the middle and pulling gently outwards.

Chris was certainly thrown for a loop by the request, but couldn't help but groan when his lip was assaulted. Wesker got uncomfortable when Chris straddled him for more than a minute, and he wondered how he'd feel about Chris being on top of him for a great part of their sex.

Kissing Wesker deeply, Chris pushed the two of them back onto the mattress and tangled their legs together. Kissing for what seemed like an eternity, the two of them finally broke with Chris leaning his forehead against Wesker's, breathing heavily.

"Are you sure?" he finally panted out, wanting to make sure Wesker was going to be completely comfortable and not freak out mid-fuck.

Wesker glared up at Chris and pinched his arm before replying. "Yes, I am sure. I wouldn't be requesting it if I wasn't."

Pouting slightly, Chris looked over at his pinched arm before Wesker caught the corner of his mouth in a kiss, a hand going to tug at his hair. "Besides… I want to see you fuck yourself on my cock."

Moaning with just the image alone, Chris slid on top of Wesker and kissed him quickly but deeply before he sat up and scooted back to sit on Wesker's thighs, his hard cock jumping slightly as Chris glanced at it.

"Let me prepare you," Chris said, saving the lube from falling off the side of the bed when Wesker had let go during their make-out session.

Flipping the cap open, Chris squirted a generous portion onto his hand and immediately slid it over Wesker's dick, making him jerk slightly.

"That was very cold, Christopher," Wesker hissed out, watching Chris get him nice and slippery for what promised to be an incredible fuck. Chris didn't know how long he'd get to be on top of Wesker like this, but he was going to take full advantage. It didn't even matter that he had never ridden someone before- what mattered was getting to see Wesker all dishevelled on the mattress.

Satisfied with the amount of lube that was used, Chris tossed the bottle aside and used the extra amount on his hand to quickly lube his hole to make it easier before straddling Wesker's waist.

"Are you ready?" Wesker asked as he gripped his own cock and moved to thrust upwards, rubbing it between Chris' cheeks in a teasing manner. Rocking back a few times, Chris nodded and chewed his bottom lip as Wesker helped him get positioned correctly before sitting down slowly, not stopping until he was pressed against Wesker's groin.

And it was then that he realized they had forgotten the condom. Sitting up to rest on his arms, Wesker groaned slightly and looked up at Chris, suddenly all too aware of the mistake the two of them made.

"I'm sorry for entering you without—" he began before Chris pulled up and slammed back down, rocking forward as he did so.

"S-shut up, I don't care," Chris mumbled, and could see Wesker smile slightly before letting out another gasp as Chris ground and swayed his hips. And Chris really didn't care despite knowing the dangers of unprotected sex—this felt amazing.

He had actually wanted Wesker completely inside him for some time, but was worried about what Wesker would say. He was so obsessive over cleanliness and his health that Chris thought maybe he'd say no… But now, well, now there was no turning back. And judging by the look on Wesker's face, he didn't seem to care anymore either.

Sliding up and down on Wesker's cock, Chris clutched his dog tags with one hand while the other braced himself on Wesker's thigh, keeping himself from tipping over and causing quite a lot of pain for the both of them. Even though he had never done something like this before, he was getting a real feel for it and continued to slide up and down, increasing his pace while occasionally grinding his hips downwards.

Closing his eyes for a second, Chris got lost in the sensations and felt Wesker's hands on his thighs, running up and down before going to grasp his cock, stroking it before sliding back around to squeeze his ass. Opening his eyes, Chris looked down at Wesker, seeing the usual concentration that was on his face during sex disappear, instead replaced with a somewhat tender look- a very aroused and sexually stimulated tender look, but a tender look none the less.

His thin lips were parted slightly, chest rising and falling quickly, and strands of pale blonde hair clung to his forehead, making Wesker seem so much more carefree and younger than he actually was. But his eyes told a different story- they were full of an animalistic urgency; a fire that threatened to consume Chris with the amount of power behind it.

Groaning at the sight, Chris continued to rock on Wesker's dick and tried not to think about the fact that his legs were growing tired and his back was beginning to ache. All that mattered was the waves of pleasure sliding in and around his body and mind.

Unfortunately, he found himself slowing down after a time, and went to adjust his legs so he could move better before Wesker spoke up, breaking the spell that had been cast over them.

"Get off," he huffed out, sitting up slightly to kiss Chris' collarbone. Stopping his movements, Chris looked down at Wesker and frowned, a little disappointed that he wouldn't get to see Wesker's face when he came if he got off.

He'd never seen the ecstasy on Wesker's face the moment of release- never really got to see him lose that control for a split second. He would always hide his face, duck it in the crook of his neck or take him completely from behind, preventing Chris from looking over his shoulder.

Chris knew it was about power- it was always about power. Wesker wanted it over Chris, and if he let him see that loss of control, even if it was for a moment, he'd feel he'd lose it all. Wesker lusted after power as much as Chris lusted after his affection…

And so Chris was left wondering what he looked like, but resigned to the fact that he would probably never get to see it… And he was okay with that… or so he told himself.

"Why?" Chris whispered, letting Wesker run his hands all over his body as he stayed perched above him, the two still intimately connected.

"Just get off," Wesker said, biting the skin on his neck with a little more force than necessary. Releasing his dog tags, Chris moved upwards and off of Wesker before he was forcefully pushed down on his hands and knees, body digging into the soft mattress under him as Wesker got behind him, hands grasping his hips harshly.

Feeling Wesker's cock slide between his cheeks, Chris rocked back and looked over his shoulder, a teasing smirk on his lips. "Playing hard to get?"

Letting out a half-laugh, half-growl, Wesker shook his head before plunging inside, making Chris gasp and clutch at the sheets, mind going blank for a second as Wesker managed to hit his prostate dead-on in the first thrust. Sliding out, Wesker took a second before slamming back in, increasing the pace with every movement.

Chris soon became a complete mess, his body over-stimulated from all of the sucking, licking, biting, teasing, and fucking from beforehand. There was no more patience on Wesker's side, and he was going as fast and as hard as he possibly could, fingers digging into his hips harshly.

Trying to match Wesker's pace, Chris continued to slam back, meeting the thrusts as their bodies pushed against one another, muscles straining and backs arching as they both fought for completion. Chris could hear Wesker's pants and occasional growls mixing with his own moans, and knew he was close when he reached up and tugged at Chris' hair, pulling his head back before he came deep inside Chris, pelvis grinding against his ass.

Feeling himself being filled for the first time, Chris couldn't help but whimper for a second, the strange sensation taking him for a loop. But he didn't have time to think about it before Wesker was pulling out and reaching around to stroke Chris, almost lifting him up so his chest was pressed against his back.

Thrusting into Wesker's hand, Chris titled his head back and rested it against Wesker's shoulder, an arm reaching back to lock around Wesker's neck. The feeling of Wesker's lips and teeth on his skin and the sensation of fluid sliding down his thighs accompanied him to his orgasm; body jerking forward as he finally came.

Staying up against Wesker, Chris closed his eyes and rode out the sensation until there was nothing left but the glorious afterglow of such an encounter. Practically collapsing back against Wesker, he let out a soft laugh as Wesker almost tipped over onto his back, trying to hold him up.

"Happy Birthday…" Chris finally said, making the two of them laugh. Finally pulling himself forward, Chris collapsed on the bed and landed right on the wet spot. But he didn't care at the moment- all he wanted was to sleep.

And after what he just did for Wesker, he thought he deserved such a rest.

He felt a dip in the mattress on the side and pulled his head out of the pillows to see Wesker getting off of the bed and going into the bathroom. Waiting for his return, Chris tried not to pay too much attention to the mess between his legs, and instead concentrated on the satisfied glow he felt all over his body.

Returning from the bathroom with a washcloth in hand, Wesker passed it to Chris, who took it with a smile, sitting up as he did so. Wesker had a habit of bringing Chris something to clean himself up with after sex, and he couldn't help but appreciate the kind gesture. It was nice to think that Wesker wanted him to be comfortable after everything was said and done, and Chris was beginning to appreciate the little things Wesker did for him, mostly because he didn't do a lot of the bigger stuff.

Cleaning himself up as best he could, Chris got up and tossed the towel on the bathroom floor before returning, wanting to relax on the comfortable bed- it wasn't every day he got to stay in such an expensive place, and he was going to take full advantage of the pillow-top mattress.

Sliding down on the bed next to Wesker, he laid down on his back and immediately found Wesker climbing between his legs to rest where he usually did when they had sex facing each other. Letting out another soft laugh, Chris wrapped an arm around Wesker's slim waist and felt a pleased hum come from Wesker, accompanied with a gust of warm breath against his neck.

"Thank you for the birthday gift, dear heart… It was worth the laughs at my expense for telling you the truth of when it was," Wesker said, a hand going up to subconsciously play with the shorter hairs on the side of Chris' head.

"Glad to hear it. I just hope that I'll be able to top it next year," said Chris, feeling all too entirely pleased with himself. He had managed to leave an impression on Wesker, that was for sure.

They lay in silence for a while, Chris ignoring the fact that he was starting to go numb down there and simply enjoyed the warmth and comfort both Wesker and the bed were giving. Closing his eyes, he found himself falling asleep before he felt Wesker begin to speak against his neck, snapping him out of his daze.

"—and it must have cost a lot. So tell me how much this has set you back."

"What?" Chris mumbled, waking up from his nap. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see Wesker hovering over him slightly, grey eyes examining him.

"I was beginning to wonder how much you spent on me in order to get this room tonight. I feel as if I should repay you somehow…" Wesker repeated, no obvious exhaustion in his voice.

For an older guy, Wesker sure had one hell of a strong stamina. Chris was exhausted and he was supposed to be the young, spry one.

"Don't worry about it, it wasn't anything big," Chris said, going to close his eyes again, only to feel a little more weight on his chest, with Wesker leaning forward on top of him.

"Chris… tell me."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"As your Captain I order you to do so."

"Ha, that only works at work and when you wanna role-play. Not here, though," Chris said, sending Wesker a cheeky smile. He wasn't going to let Wesker win this, even if it was his birthday. The cost didn't matter, what did matter was that Wesker had a good time.

Suddenly Wesker was moving quickly, grabbing Chris' wrists and pulling them above his head, keeping them locked there as Wesker stared down at him.

"Tell me," he repeated once again, and Chris would have been more concerned about being at the mercy of Wesker if not for the subtle, but still present softness in his eyes.

Taking a moment to gauge his situation, Chris got an idea and titled his head to the side and up, looking at Wesker through heavy-lidded eyes. "Okay… I'll tell you," he said, sliding a leg up Wesker's side. A second passed before Chris got his other leg around and used all his strength to flip the two of them, Wesker's grasp losing purchase before he was thrown onto the other side of the mattress.

Trying to untangle himself from Chris' limbs and the blankets, Wesker snarled slightly before he was on Chris again, the two of them wrestling for dominance before they both rolled off the bed.

Wesker desperately tried to grab onto the sheets to stay upwards, but Chris had other plans and dragged him down with him, the two landing with a large thud. Laying on the ground with the blankets over them, Chris thought he had seriously pissed Wesker off until he lifted his head up and looked down at him, only to see him laughing- that strong, elegant purr that seemed to accompany his laughter, carrying to Chris like rainfall on a warm summer day.

Bringing a fist up to his mouth, Wesker tried to stop himself, which made Chris begin to laugh as well, the two of them relaxing after the short-lived wrestling match.

"I can't believe what you've reduced me to, dear heart. Wrestling on the bed, rolling around like a small child." Wesker shook his head but continued to chuckle softly, eyes full of mirth Chris had never seen before.

"You should laugh more often," Chris finally said, going down to kiss Wesker slowly- officially stopping his laughter. He couldn't help himself; Wesker looked so god damn gorgeous at that moment, with his grey eyes full of joy, the worry lines on his face gone and instead replaced with laugh lines, and his hair, a mess of soft gold and silver. At that moment, Chris felt like the luckiest guy to see such a thing.

Breaking away, Wesker opened his eyes and looked up at Chris. A moment passed between them, a subtle shift in the air indicating such, before a knock at the door snapped them back to reality.

"I'll get that," Wesker said, pushing Chris off of him to go and grab a bathrobe. Waiting until he had left, Chris stood up and began to put the sheets back on, movements a little shaky.

He had no idea what exactly happened at that moment between them, but it threw Chris for a loop. There was something… there, something that hadn't been felt before. But as soon as it had come, it left, leaving Chris a little more than confused.

But Wesker returned minutes later, snapping Chris out of his daze and preventing him from thinking about it further. Finishing putting the blankets back in order, Chris turned around just in time to see the smirk on Wesker's lips.

"What was that about?" he asked, going to crawl back in bed with Wesker joining him.

"We had two complaints," Wesker said, laying beside Chris to look at him, the smirk still on his features.

"What were they about?" Chris asked, waiting for Wesker to continue.

"First- the people downstairs thought we were trying to kill each other, what with the loud thud and all," he drawled out, the smile getting bigger and cockier.

"And the second…?" Chris asked slowly, afraid of what was making Wesker grin so much.

Tracing Chris' jaw with one finger, Wesker moved a little closer and let his lips ghost over Chris', hot breath dancing against his lips as he continued to give Chris a devilish smile. "Second… the people beside us feel that you moan too loudly."

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_Baaaah! That was all one scene, you guys! All in the same area! That is rare in this story, I tell yah! Anyways, we have some sweetness going on between these two in this chapter (among other things) but you should enjoy this while it lasts. Because I can pretty much guarantee things will go downhill from here for our favourite couple. Of course that doesn't mean you wont get more uh... exciting scenes! Wait and see! Anyways, thanks once more for the reviews/favourites/alerts, and the general support you guys give me every day. I've been getting feedback from all over the place, and I really, truly appreciate every single comment I get, and I reply to everyone who messages me. So don't be shy if you've wanted to talk to me about RE or anything in general! I don't bite- the doctors cured me of that! _Thanks again!


	27. Enigma

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Violence_

**Authors Note: **Hiya, everybody! Chapter 27 is upon us, as well as a new milestone for me (personally). This story has almost hit 400 reviews, and once again I am at a loss for words at the amount of support you guys have shown me. I'm just so happy that you guys are reading and getting enjoyment from this story, and I hope that you continue to read this! Hopefully we're all in it for the long haul! And the support I've been shown has taken on a new turn, because someone was kind enough to create a **facebook fan page. **Yes, that's right, someone made a facebook page for me! So far it includes daily updates about certain things going on, as well as a discussion section to talk about 'State of Flux', but I'm sure if you joined you could talk about whatever you wanted! I'll link the page at the bottom of my profile with the rest of my links, but don't feel obligated to join! Join only if you think you'd like to! And finally, **the contest judging is almost done!** The judges and I have pretty much chosen our First and Second place winners, but the Third place is currently tied at the moment! So I'm trying to get another judge in to break the 'tie', so please be patient while this is going on! Thank you very much! So, without further ado- chapter 27!_  
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Chapter 27- Enigma**

_But now I have come to believe that the whole world is an enigma, a harmless enigma that is made terrible by our own mad attempt to interpret it as though it had an underlying truth ._~Umberto Eco~

"Oh, what's this, a picture of your new boyfriend? Finally get to see his face, do I? He's kinda cute… you know, for a guy."

"Shut up, Chris…" Jill said, turning around slightly in her chair to frown at Chris, who was currently looking over her shoulder at the framed photo on her work desk.

"Oh, come on, you've been going out with this guy for a while now and I've always been curious as to what he looks like- you're too closed off with your personal life," he said, giving her his best hurt puppy dog look.

"I don't hear you talking about your latest conquest, do I?" Jill said, tipping her chin upward slightly to give Chris a smug smile.

"Hey now, who said I had conquests?" Giving up his hurt puppy dog look, Chris eyed the photo on her desk one last time, trying to size the guy up just by seeing a photo of him. He was attractive for a guy- he had a bright smile, shaggy black hair, and warm blue eyes. Chris figured he might be part Asian, but didn't dwell on his ethnicity. He was more concerned with whether he was a gentleman and would treat Jill right, or if he was a crazed rapist with a death wish.

Because if he hurt Jill, Chris could pretty much guarantee his wish would come true.

"I didn't say you did, but I figured seeing as how…"

"How what?" Chris asked, poking Jill as she trailed off.

"Nothing, it's nothing," Jill said, shrugging before she tried to go back to her computer screen, only to have Chris pester her once again.

"What's his name?"

Chris knew well enough that if Jill didn't want to elaborate on something, no matter how much it personally involved him, she wouldn't. And if he tried to get her to continue, she almost always found a way to threaten Chris to the extent that he figured she would actually carry through with them… And Jill could be a very frightening woman.

"His name is Wilson… Why?"

"Just want to know the name of someone who I might have to hurt in the future," Chris said, shrugging as Jill gave him a nasty glare.

"Don't go protective over me, Chris. If he tries anything, you know I'll be able to handle him myself," she said, although Chris could see a softness come to her eyes and a small smile tug at her lips. "But thanks for saying that- lets me know you've got my back, even outside of work."

"Of course I do! Plus, I have to be nice to the girl who managed to get me that pretty little trophy over there."

A week ago, just as March was beginning and spring was in the air, Jill walked into the office with a small box in her hand and a bright grin on her face. Everyone wanted to know what was in the box, but it wasn't revealed to them until lunch rolled around and everyone, including Bravo team, got to look at it.

It turned out Jill had remembered the Marksman competition Chris and Forest had taken part in back in December, and also remembered Chris' excitement about the possibility of getting something 'shiny'.

So she had gone out and purchased a small trophy and had Chris' name placed on it, alongside his title as the best Marksman of the group. Chris was incredibly excited about the entire affair, but had it stolen before he could actually look at it thanks to Forest, who snatched it out of the box and took off with it. It ended with a chase through the RPD, with Chris desperately trying to get it back until Chief Irons showed up at exactly the wrong time when the two of them were wrestling for it in the hallway by the snack machines.

After some yelling courtesy of Irons, they were allowed to go back to the office, only to have Wesker take the trophy from Chris and shove it on a shelf in the front of the room alongside more 'important' trophies the group had earned over the months they worked together. Chris liked to think Wesker put it there because he had earned it, but realized he had placed it there so he and Forest wouldn't squabble over it like small children.

"You and your love of shiny things," Jill said, shaking her head slightly as she went back to her work. Chris was just about to defend himself before he heard a loud cough from the front of the room, followed by an all too familiar voice.

"Get back to work, Chris…" Wesker drawled out as he scribbled away at more notes. He didn't even look up at Chris as he said it, but Chris could feel the irritation coming off of him all the way from his place at the front of the office.

Giving him a lazy salute that he couldn't see, Chris turned back around and started to type away at a file involving a teenager he had stopped from spray painting a dick on Irons' car the other day, putting in the date he did it, why he stopped them, what force he used, etc., before his mind began to wander yet again.

Chris was in a good mood that day- an incredibly good mood, actually. He didn't really know why, though. Maybe it was because spring was so soon, his favourite time of year when everything began again- a new life. Or perhaps it was because Wesker bought him dinner last night. Granted it was fast food, and it was purchased because they were working on a case all night and both needed nourishment, but that was beside the point. The point was they had dinner together, almost like a date, and Chris was going to take what he could get.

It also helped that Wesker had given him a very nice hand job in the very chair he was sitting in last night, after the late night dinner and all of the reports were done.

Fiddling with his monitor's brightness levels, Chris watched the screen get brighter and darker before glancing over at Barry, who seemed incredibly involved with staying awake. He had a late night as well with another case, and Chris was surprised to see him at work on time today.

"We still on for sparring tomorrow?" he whispered to Barry, leaning forward so Wesker wouldn't hear.

Tearing his gaze away from his reports, Barry smiled and nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, of course- haven't been down to the gym for some time, so it'll be good to see if I can still kick your butt."

Rolling his eyes, Chris made a disgruntled sound before speaking again. "You wish you could kick my ass, but I've got news for you, old man. I'm going to show you how we do it- Redfield style."

"Chris!"

Snapping his gaze from Barry, Chris looked up at Wesker, who was sitting at his desk, an eyebrow raised and pen still in his hand.

"Sorry…" Chris mumbled, already knowing what Wesker was going to say. Keeping eye contact for some time, Chris waited until the pen began to twirl again before going back to his work, relieved to see Wesker relaxing.

Writing for a few more minutes, Chris was just about to look for a slip of paper in one of the many folders on his desk before he remembered an amusing thing he had seen the other day that he thought Jill would enjoy.

Turning around in his chair once again, Chris tapped Jill's shoulder a few times before she finally turned around to look at him expectantly.

"So the other day I was walking to my car outside the grocery store when—"

"Christopher! How many times must I tell you to shut the bloody hell up?"

Jumping in his seat, Chris turned around only a fraction before he was level with a blue shirt and crossed arms. Looking up, Chris gave Wesker a tentative smile, which was returned with a menacing glare.

"We're all trying to get through the last of the reports for the day, and yet you seem eager to intrude upon all of our work just so you can speak? Why not just wait another twenty minutes until your shift is over so you can tell your 'amusing' stories and anecdotes?"

"Because I'll forget…?" Chris said, trying to defend his very weak position.

"And what, may I inquire, is so important that you had to interrupt Ms. Valentine… again?"

"A gopher… with an ice cream cone…" Chris mumbled, his eyes leaving Wesker's face to inspect the corner of a piece of paper.

He could hear a heavy sigh, and a feeling of dread slid over and across his back, much like when a thunderstorm was rolling into town and thick air and heavy static permeated the air. Preparing himself for the onslaught of yelling, Chris braced for impact and waited for the first insult to be hurled his way.

Only a loud bang as a door flew open and hit the wall resounded about the room, and everyone's attention was immediately drawn to a small child that ran through the now-open door and straight to Wesker.

"Uncle Albert!"

Almost toppling over onto Chris as the girl threw herself against his legs, Wesker desperately tried to stay upwards and ended up using Chris' head as a balancing point.

"Crap!" Chris cried out, his neck twisting to the side as Wesker pressed down on him. Throwing his hands out, Chris grabbed Wesker's arms and kept him upright as the small blonde girl continued to grip his legs with bruising force.

Finally getting his balance, Wesker squeezed Chris' arm gently for a split second before pulling himself away quickly, eyes downcast to look at the small sandy-colour haired girl. She continued to grip Wesker's legs tightly, her little arms refusing to let go as she enjoyed the childlike glee only someone her age could muster from a single hug.

"Uh…" Chris managed to get out as he stared at the girl, everything suddenly going into slow motion as Wesker _reached_ down towards her. For a second, all Chris could imagine seeing was the dismemberment of the small child before them.

The one and only time Chris had seen Wesker interact with a child was during a mission back in November. There was a young boy who was crying after he witnessed a car accident in front of his school. Instead of going to calm the child down like any caring adult would do, Wesker told him to smarten up because if the truck that hit the car was even a few centimetres to the left, it would have ripped through and decapitated the driver of the car. Obviously the child should feel lucky to have only witnessed the driver going to the hospital with a broken arm and a bleeding forehead.

The thing with that kid though, was that he hadn't even approached Wesker- he was a few feet away and didn't even look at Wesker before he began to place horrific images in the kid's already-traumatised mind. And this girl… she was much closer to him than that little boy- she was _clinging_ to him.

Chris was about to leap up and grab the girl away from Wesker's strong grip in a desperate attempt to try and save her, before Wesker's hand finally descended onto the top of her head and he gently, if not a little awkwardly, ruffled her hair…

"Hello, Sherry, it's a pleasure to see you," he said, gently pulling her away so he could see her properly.

"It's a pleasure to see you!" she replied, displaying a courtesy most girls her age lacked.

"I'm so very sorry, Mr. Wesker, but we were walking past on her way home from school and she insisted we come visit you."

A woman was standing at the door, her long brown hair tied up in a loose bun, a few hairs coming out here and there. She looked young- too young for her to be 'Sherry's' mother, and Chris, in his still-stunned state of mind, managed to deduct that she was probably her nanny.

"It's quite all right, Lydia," Wesker said, turning to inspect the young woman who looked like she had just had an entire elephant removed from her shoulders- the weight disappearing as Wesker gave her the smallest, barely-there smile that told her she was safe… for now.

"Let us go to the break room and I'll buy you something sweet to have as a snack before you go home. You may tell me about school and how your classes are while we walk." Taking Sherry's hand in his own, Wesker left the room without even giving his STARS a second glance, leaving all three of them in a position of complete and utter confusion.

There was silence for some time in the office, the only sound being that of the clock above Brad's desk ticking away the seconds they continued to sit in shock. They were all staring at the door, with Chris in a particular state of distress. Wesker… knew that girl. He knew her quite well, and judging by his reaction to her, she meant a lot to him…

So why hadn't he ever told Chris about her?

And why was he so civil to a kid?

"What… the… fuck," Jill finally said, breaking the spell that had been cast over them. "Did you all see what I just saw?"

"Wesker touching a kid and not hurting them?" Barry asked, hands stills poised over his keyboard.

"Did she call him… uncle?" Chris said, ignoring the conversation going on between Jill and Barry as he came to realize what Sherry had said as she came barrelling through the room. She had definitely called him uncle, which left Chris wondering if he was her real uncle, or a name she used but there was no relation actually there. He knew he shouldn't be caring about it as much as he was, but new ideas and thoughts began to make an appearance in Chris' perpetually confused mind.

Chris, at that very moment, was beginning to realize he knew nothing about Wesker.

Sure, he knew what he liked in bed; what his kinks were; how to give him the most pleasure; what turned him on, and the like. But when it came to knowing Wesker personally, as in what his favourite colour was, where he grew up, his parents' names- anything that would give him slight insight into the man whom he cared about on a very deep level… well, he was at a loss.

He'd been working and sleeping with Wesker for months, and yet he continued to be a complete enigma.

"I think she did, but I can't be sure. As soon as he ruffled her hair I think I had a slight brain aneurism," Jill replied, sitting back in her chair while turning to look at Barry and Chris.

"Didn't think he had any siblings," Barry said, sitting back as well. Running the palm of his hand over his beard, he appeared to be deep in thought as he stared at the door. "Come to think of it, I always assumed Wesker just… appeared."

"What?" Chris turned to look at Barry, caught off guard by Barry's less than reasonable response. Usually it was he who made the strange comments, not Mr. Level Headed Barry.

"Well we know nothing about him when it comes down to it all, right? For all we know, he was genetically made in a laboratory."

Chris could hear Jill hum behind him, and turned his attention to her as she, too, went to rub her jaw. "Yeah, come to think of it, we know pretty much nothing about him. Like… maybe he's English, but you can't be completely sure because it's such a faint accent. And he's gay- we all found that out in a less than kind way… and maybe he's not naturally blonde?"

"He is," Chris said suddenly without thinking it through. Mentally scolding himself, Chris turned away from Jill and fiddled with his mouse. "I mean, look at his eyebrows… they're light too."

"I think she was just kidding about the last one… But yeah… He's damn good at keeping his life a secret, I'll give him that much," Barry said before turning back to his work, apparently already over the strange event that took place. Glancing over his shoulder, Chris noticed Jill was returning to the job at hand as well, leaving him with only his thoughts.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Hey, Kitten," Chris mumbled, going to kiss Wesker's cheek before sitting down on top of his desk.

For the split second he was in contact with Wesker, Chris could already feel the tension spring into his muscles as soon as the word 'Kitten' was mumbled, and he couldn't help but grin brightly.

"What… did you call me?" Wesker asked, looking up from his work to stare down Chris.

"Kitten," he said, still smiling despite the fact that Wesker was still at work even with it being after hours, and therefore still had access to his gun. "What, you don't like it?"

Wesker seemed to get even higher strung if at all possible, and clenched his jaw a few times while his pen stilled. "Why… Kitten?"

"You act like one, that's why. You growl when you're upset or aroused, arch your back slightly when I touch the spot on your lower back, let out low little sounds like a purr when pleased, and you get a look on your face that can only be described like that of a cat… Kinda like the one you have on now," Chris said, trailing off at the end as Wesker looked like he might explode.

"Don't ever call me that again," Wesker replied through clenched teeth.

"You call me dear heart," Chris mumbled, knowing he was pissing Wesker off, but unable to really stop himself. For the rest of the day Chris had been thinking about how little he knew about Wesker, and he had begun to resent the fact that Wesker continued to keep himself so closed off.

Chris, on numerous occasions, had told Wesker all about his life. He would talk about where he grew up, stories from his childhood, and more importantly, stories about his parents. He never talked about his family to anyone, and if he did it was usually quick little things, trivial in detail and unimportant. But with Wesker… well, Wesker probably knew everything there was to know about his family life, including Claire.

Chris spilled his guts to Wesker…

But Wesker had never shared anything with him, and he was becoming a little angry. That was why Chris found himself intentionally pissing Wesker off at that very moment, even though he knew it was a bad idea.

"I don't call you it to antagonize you, do I? Besides, you get so… happy when I say it," Wesker said just as he went back to his work.

"I'm not trying to antagonize you; I'm just trying to come up with something to call you." Picking up a spare pen, Chris tried to twirl it between his fingers like Wesker did, but realized his fingers weren't as nimble or thin as Wesker's were. Clumsily twirling it as best he could, Chris attempted it a few more times before tossing it down on the desk, a frown accompanying the action.

"Call me Wesker, call me Captain, and if you really want to, call me Albert… But do not call me Kitten ever again," Wesker said, a sigh escaping his lips at the end.

Nodding, Chris watched Wesker for a time, still thinking about what had happened earlier. He was about to get up and leave, but that all too familiar nagging feeling persisted, and he found himself speaking once again.

"Who was that girl today… Sherry was her name, right?"

"… Yes, that was her name," Wesker said after a time, his hand quickly going across the bottom of a sheet, his loopy cursive signature filling the line. Finishing it off with a sharp flick of the wrist, Wesker stood up and went to the fax machine with a stack of papers in hand. "And who she is, is of little concern to you."

Glaring at Wesker, Chris crossed his arms and shifted slightly on the desk to better watch him as he faxed sheet after sheet to some location. "Why isn't she?"

"Because she isn't… I don't see why she would be in the first place."

"She's obviously important to you, otherwise you wouldn't have been so kind to her… I just want to know more about her in hopes of getting to know you better. I mean… are you actually her uncle?"

"Chris, what is this?" Wesker said, finally turning his attention away from his beloved fax machine to stare at Chris.

"What's what?"

"This pestering of me for information. If I had wanted to tell you about her and about my personal life, I would have, but I don't because it does not matter," Wesker stated, staring Chris down before going back to his faxing.

"I want to know because we're a couple now! I think I have the right to know a little bit about the guy I've been seeing for the past five months," Chris shot back, a little offended that Wesker didn't believe he was important enough to give information to.

"We're not a couple, Christopher- stop trying to make it that way." Faxing the last sheet, Wesker turned around only to run into Chris, who had left his position on the desk.

"Yeah, we are, so stop trying to deny it. Can you honestly say that we haven't become more than just fuck buddies the last few months? Do you often hold hands with the guy you're just seeing for sex, buy him dinner, invite him over just to sleepover and not have sex with? Really, do you do that?" Chris said, trying to keep his voice down- they were still at work and people could hear through the door if they got loud enough. But it was getting increasingly difficult to keep it on the down low, his irritation getting the better of him.

"I do those things only if it keeps my 'fuck buddy' happy. When you're happy you're more willing to bend over."

The words were so crass and uncouth that Chris, for a split second, didn't even believe Wesker had said it- it was like a slap to the face as Wesker's words finally carried over to him.

"I… you…" Without realizing what he was doing, Chris pulled back before punching Wesker as hard as he possibly could in the jaw, snapping his head back as his fist connected with a high cheekbone.

Moving with the motion, Wesker turned slightly and immediately went to cup his cheek, form hunched over as the pain settled. A second passed before Chris found himself being slammed up against the large STARS emblem on the back wall, head snapping back against the plaster, making him see stars.

"You chose to tell me your life story, Chris, just like I choose not to tell you mine. Stop trying to make this more than it is. It's a way for us to forget about our responsibilities and duties- a diversion from the mundane parts of life. Nothing more, nothing less… So stop trying to weasel your way into my life and just take what you can get, because this is all I'm offering you, _dear heart._" Wesker's hot breath washed against Chris' skin, making him almost want to vomit. Fighting back tears he knew were building, Chris watched Wesker for a second before trying to push him away, desperate to get away from him all of a sudden.

Never had Chris wanted to rid himself of Wesker's presence so quickly.

"You're a coward, you know that?" Chris shouted all of a sudden, giving up just as Wesker let go. "You're such a fucking coward."

"At least I'm not deluded," Wesker growled out as he turned to grab his coat from the back of his chair. Taking a few determined steps forward, Wesker looked ready to leave before he paused a moment. Chris thought he was turning around to attack him- an eye for an eye- but quickly realized he was in some distress as his hand reached out and grabbed at Chris' arm, delicate fingers digging into his skin as his other hand grabbed his chest.

"A-are you okay?" Chris blurted out, knowing very well he was having difficulty of some kind but not knowing what else to say. The palm of his hand was pressed flat against his chest, but his fingers were raised, pressing deep into the skin as if to push back whatever he was experiencing.

For a second Chris thought he was going to pass out, and grabbed at his arm to steady him before Wesker suddenly turned on him, a snarl escaping his lips as he violently pulled away from Chris.

Straightening himself out, Wesker slowly lowered his hand and gave Chris one last glance before he made movement to leave the room, the previous distress that seemed to rack his body no longer visible.

"Are you all r—" Chris tried to get out before Wesker left the room, the door slamming behind him.

Still resting against the wall, Chris tried to gain some semblance of reality before he slid down the wall to the floor, legs curling up against his chest. In a matter of moments Chris had seen Wesker at his worst- strong, violent, and vindictive- before he had that… attack, leaving him at his weakest- scared, vulnerable, but still just as dangerous.

He didn't understand what had happened in those few minutes it took to completely destroy the two of them. Didn't see how things got so out of hand so quickly. All he wanted was some sort of insight into Wesker- a window in which he could better see him and better understand the man he was beginning to feel incredibly connected to. But as soon as it had come up, Wesker fought back with words, almost like a wild animal that was caged. In a desperate attempt to escape, he brutalized Chris with his words, so much so that Chris had begun to feel like a cheap whore- someone Wesker could use and string along while tempting for his own amusement. Chris wanted to believe that he had only said what he said out of fear that there was actually something there, rather than out of a reality- a reality that Chris hadn't been aware of.

He had hoped that Wesker was coming around, that they were actually forming something- a deeper connection than that of sex. All the signs pointed to it. The quick kisses, the hand holding, simple but kind gestures they would both do on a regular basis; all of it drew Chris in the direction of a _real_ relationship. That was all Chris wanted… But then as soon as it was brought up, Wesker destroyed the small sliver of hope, showing Chris a glimpse into what he could really be, and possibly revealing more about himself than he had intended.

And then there was that attack- almost like he was having a heart attack of some kind. He wanted to follow Wesker, to make sure he'd be okay, but at the same time he knew he'd just add to the pain. After all, whatever happened had happened because of him and his desperate need to get something out of Wesker. He wasn't blaming himself for it- for any of the argument, in fact, but he was part of it just as much as Wesker was, and he realized with perfect clarity that although Wesker had hurt him with his words, Chris had stooped low enough to hurt him with physical violence.

What happened between them opened up more than Chris had ever imagined, leaving him crumpled up against a wall in the STARS office, head ducked between his knees as he desperately fought for air- an all too familiar position for him.

* * *

_As my beta said a while ago- Wesker is a bitch. Wesker is also terrified of commitment and being close to people as well, and only really knows how to lash out. But fear not, Chris wont let something like this just go by without confronting Wesker- the real question here though, is what's physically wrong with Wesker? If you think about it for just a little while, it might be pretty obvious. But to ease some of your fears, NO, he is not having a heart attack! Anyways, thanks for the reviews/favourties/watches. I love you all! _


	28. Truth

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Nothin'_

**Authors Note: **Sorry for the delay in the new update (for those of you who don't know, I try and update every 10 days), but FF was being strange the last couple of days for me, so I was hesitant to upload. Also, I was trying to get a present together to thank all of you for 400+ reviews, but youtube was being a pest. Basically I made a video with shoutouts and such, but youtube wouldn't upload it... I tired numerous times, but I guess the site hates me! And finally, the contest winners have been announced! Please look at my profile to see the winners! Although I wish I could have given everyone who entered a prize! Anywho, thank you so much for the amazing support you guys- this story wouldn't be here like this without you guys, so thank you so much! Perhaps I'll get the gift to work sometime! _  
_

* * *

**Chapter 28- Truth**

_The truth is rarely pure and never simple. ~Oscar Wilde~_**  
**

When Chris returned to work the next day, still a bundle of mixed emotions and nerves, he didn't really know how he'd react to seeing Wesker. What had happened between the two of them the night before had definitely opened up things that both of them probably wished had been kept under wraps, and now that things had been said and emotions revealed, it was impossible to just forget it.

But Chris didn't have to worry about seeing Wesker that day- in fact, he didn't have to worry for a whole week. When Tuesday morning arrived, he and the rest of the STARS members were informed that Barry would be taking over Alpha Team for the remainder of the week, on account of Wesker having 'something' to deal with.

At first Chris was glad Wesker wouldn't be around, even though he had a nagging feeling something was wrong, especially after Wesker had left in such physical distress. But he really did not want to deal with speaking to him- he didn't even want to see Wesker's face, he was still so upset with what he had said. Chris felt like a used man; a receptacle in which Wesker could release his desires and needs- nothing more. If Wesker really thought there was nothing between them but physical desires, then he really didn't give a damn about whether Wesker was going to be all right. Let him have a heart attack and die, see if Chris cared…

Except he did.

He began to care a lot.

As the days passed and there was no news on Wesker, Chris grew more and more anxious as he thought about what could have happened to him, each thought more gruesome than the last. He assumed Wesker was away because of whatever happened Monday night, but he was the only one who seemed aware of this new development. Everyone else, including Barry and Enrico, thought that Wesker was on a business trip of some kind- a common occurrence for him. But Chris knew that it was more than that, and he had begun to become irrationally angry about that too.

If he hadn't seen Wesker in distress, hadn't seen the fear and pain in his eyes, then he could just assume it was a business trip like everyone else and not worry about the length of his absence. But _knowing_ that there was more to it than that made Chris lie awake at night, every night, debating if he should try and contact Wesker to at least make sure he was still alive.

He despised the fact that even though Wesker pretty much made Chris feel like a worthless whore, he still wanted to make sure he was okay- he still wanted to hear his voice, feel his touch, and if he was in pain, he wanted to be there to tell him it would all be okay…

"You're distracted again."

Snapping his gaze up from his water bottle, Chris looked at Barry and tried to smile, a forced chuckle escaping past his lips in an attempt to hide what was really going on in his head.

"Sorry, just thinking," he said, taking a swig of his water while trying to get comfortable on one of the gym benches.

"I'll say- I tackled you down six times in a row in the past fifteen minutes! I thought you were going to show me how Redfields do it, and I highly doubt they fall down and just take it." Chuckling, Barry reached over to pat Chris' shoulder before shaking him gently. "What's wrong?"

Chris, for a split second, wanted to tell Barry. He wanted to tell him _everything_. The urge to spill his guts about his relationship with Wesker in hopes of getting a little bit of advice was almost overwhelming. But Chris quickly squashed the notion with the remembrance of his uncle, and took a sip of his water to stop anything he might have said.

"Nothing, just been day dreaming a lot; spring makes me do that," Chris said, trying to move away from talks about his personal life.

"Ah, I know what you mean. Went to the park with the family the other day and enjoyed one of the first warm days of the season. Kathy made pie and everything… It was a good day," Barry said, an overwhelming softness coming to his voice as soon as he said Kathy.

Picking up on it, Chris smiled and turned to look at Barry closely. "Hey… how did you and Kathy meet?"

Grinning, Barry rested his back against the gym wall and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared off into the distance, obviously already taking a trip down memory lane.

"We met in high school- we were both freshmen and in art class together. I was pretty horrible at art- you know, the type of guy who thought stickmen should be considered art just so I could get a passing grade. Anyways, she sat at the same table I did, and man… I still remember the first time I laid eyes on her.

"She was wearing this pretty dress that was a soft green with blue flowers on it that really brought out her eyes. She was standing just a few feet from me when she walked in, and her hair caught the light and just shone so bright… She looked like an angel." Smiling, Barry shook his head and turned to Chris, seemingly out of his trance.

"Of course I immediately made a fool of myself by tripping over a stool as I stared at her, but you know, love is blind!"

Rolling his eyes, Chris laughed and nudged Barry with his elbow, used to his puns. That was one thing Chris could count on from Barry- a good laugh to go with an entertaining story.

"Hey, when did you know she was… you know, the one?" Chris asked after they had both finished laughing and a comfortable atmosphere settled over them.

"I don't know… just one day I woke up next to her and thought I was the luckiest guy in the world. Everything about her just amazed me, and I began to cherish the little things, like a simple smile or the brush of her hand against mine. Everything felt so right without me even trying to make it that way… it just happened. Why… you got someone special you haven't told me about?"

Grinning from ear to ear, it was Barry's turn to elbow Chris gently, pressing for answers he wasn't going to get. Shaking his head, Chris sat back and gently knocked his head against the gym wall. What Barry had said struck a cord inside Chris, and images of Wesker lying on the hotel room floor in a fit of laughter flashed before him.

"Nah, I don't… at least not yet. I was just wondering how you knew, so maybe one day when it happens for me I'll know too," Chris said after a time, standing up to wander over to the change rooms, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. But Barry's voice caught him, and he paused at the door, head turned slightly to hear him better.

"Well when you find them, Chris… don't ever let them go," he said, his voice suddenly serious as he looked at Chris.

Nodding, Chris took a second before opening the door to the change room, mind already working in overdrive as a million thoughts jumped and skittered about, making it hard for him to concentrate on just one.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Of course, the one thought he ended up settling on was Wesker- it was always Wesker.

Standing outside his apartment building, Chris spent five minutes staring at Wesker's apartment number, the little white intercom button both tempting and terrifying in its need to be pushed.

He was still upset with Wesker, and he didn't know what he was coming here to say, or what he expected Wesker to do in return. He also didn't know what condition Wesker would be in. For all he knew, he could be on his death bed, as silly as that sounded.

Finally giving in, Chris pressed the button and hoped for a response, going on the assumption that nine was too early for Wesker to be in bed. Waiting for what seemed like hours, Chris rocked back on his heels and stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying not to let thoughts from Monday get in the way of what could be a civil conversation. Finally a click could be heard over the speaker before Wesker's voice carried over clearly.

"Who is it?"

"Uh… it's Chris…" he said, trying to sound confident although he lacked it. A second passed and for a moment Chris thought Wesker had hung up, clearly not in the mood to even give Chris the time of day.

But the jarring sound of the door buzzer snapped Chris out of those thoughts as soon as they had come, and he quickly opened the door and stepped inside the lobby, taking the fact that Wesker was letting him in as a good sign.

Going to the elevator, Chris pressed the correct floor button and waited, taking those precious minutes it would take to get to Wesker's apartment to get himself together and go over what he was going to say.

If Wesker had been away for work purposes and he was fine, Chris would confront him about Monday, and if he was indeed ill, then he would… well, he didn't know what he would do. If they hadn't had the argument like they had, Chris probably would have tried to kiss Wesker's worries away, but now… well now he didn't even know if that was still appropriate between them.

Finally arriving outside Wesker's apartment door, Chris almost let himself in like he usually did, before figuring it was better to knock and wait this time. Rapping his knuckles against the door, Chris looked down at his shoes and waited for the door to open.

It didn't take too long, what with Wesker already expecting him. But as soon as the door opened, Chris found it hard to look up.

"Christopher… are you going to stare at your shoes all day or are you going to come inside?"

Wesker's voice sounded tired, a strain behind each word carrying through to Chris easily enough, making him finally turn his gaze upwards to look at Wesker.

He looked tired and slightly ill, a pale pallor to his skin that was even more noticeable due to the bags under his eyes. His hair wasn't styled in its usual gelled-back hold; in fact, it seemed incredibly messy compared to how he usually wore it. It looked like he was continually pushing it back in an attempt to keep it out of his eyes, but strands continued to fall and get in the way of his vision. Chris thought it would have been incredibly sexy if not for the fact that his health was what was causing the lax in hair care.

But the most shocking thing of all to Wesker's appearance was the clothes he was wearing. He had a loose fitting black sweater on, the arms of it rolled up to his elbows and the neck sitting lower than it probably should, showing off his collarbone and some of his chest. The pants he was wearing were also black in colour, but baggier than what he usually wore.

If anyone other than Wesker was wearing what he was, Chris would have thought they were just relaxing on their day off, what with there being no need to dress up. But because it was Wesker dressed in such a casual fashion, Chris grew more and more worried.

Suddenly all the anger he had held towards Wesker and his attitude a few days ago went out the door, instead replaced with anxiety. He would talk to him about Monday later; right now all he wanted to do was make sure Wesker was going to be okay.

"How are you, uh… feeling?" Chris finally asked, stepping into the apartment before taking his shoes off. Keeping his jacket on, he watched as Wesker shut the door and moved to stand in front of him, hands crossed over his chest.

"I have a slight cold, but other than that I'm completely fine. And yourself?"

Rolling his eyes, Chris shook his head before rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You're obviously not fine if you've taken a week off, Wesker. Please just… tell me the truth."

He was sick of Wesker keeping things secret from him, and he was determined to get the truth from him for once.

"I… I just ran a bath and I don't want the water to get cold," Wesker began, suddenly making move to the bathroom.

Not knowing what Wesker expected him to do, Chris stood at the door for a moment longer before finally following, deciding that if Wesker was going to try and avoid him he'd just follow like the 'deluded' man he was. Stepping into the bedroom, Chris followed the small trail of clothes until he got to the washroom and saw Wesker slowly lowering himself into the warm water.

Going into the washroom, Chris sat down on the toilet lid and rested his arms on his thighs, staring ahead at the counter before him while Wesker ducked his head under the water to wet his head.

Inspecting the counter, Chris looked over the now familiar objects until landing on a pill bottle, one he hadn't seen before. Reaching forward, Chris snatched it up and read the side of it, already amazed Wesker hadn't prevented him from seeing it.

Looking for the name of the medication, Chris quickly read through dosage information before coming to the name- 'Valium'.

"What's this?" he asked after a time, looking over at Wesker. who was watching the water from the tap drip into the tub.

"It's anxiety medication. I was prescribed it on Tuesday after I went to the doctor with chest pain and breathing troubles," Wesker said as he continued to watch the water drip. "My doctor told me to take them to… ease my anxiety attacks. He also told me to take the week off, which as you can imagine was hard for me to do."

Chris could see the smallest of smiles lurking beneath Wesker's stoic expression, and couldn't help but smile himself. But it was short-lived, and what Wesker had told him began to settle, making him wonder what was causing Wesker so much anxiety and worry.

"Mind telling me why you're so anxious?" he asked, putting the bottle that suddenly weighed far too much back on the counter.

"It's not your concern… Just know that I have been taking them. It's either that or an early death."

Chris was a little upset that Wesker wasn't going to tell him, but decided not to press him further on the topic. After all, what did a 'fuck buddy' really need to know?

"Well as long as you're not dying…" Trailing off, Chris watched Wesker for a time, waiting to see if he was going to say anything. The tension in the room was obviously getting to the two of them, and Chris began to feel it would be better if he just left.

Deciding to follow his own advice, Chris stood up and straightened his jacket before heading to the door. "I'll be going now, I guess… see you at work."

He was almost out the door when he heard Wesker's voice, his soft accent carrying to Chris easily enough. "She is the daughter of a friend of mine… Sherry, that is."

Turning around, Chris looked over at Wesker, locking eyes with him. He didn't know what Wesker was trying to do, but didn't have time to ask before he was speaking again.

"Her father and I had been friends since we were teenagers… We attended the same school together. He got married to a woman named Annette and lived a happy, but stressful life… until he passed away."

Chris was shocked for a moment, trying to comprehend what Wesker was telling him- what he was opening up to him about. He certainly hadn't expected this, but decided to go along with it and see how far it would go.

Walking over to the toilet, Chris sat down on the lid once again and reached out to take Wesker's hand in his own, massaging the palm. "How did he pass away?"

"A car accident- just a few years ago. Annette is always so busy with work that she hired a nanny to help take care of Sherry. I do my part to give her some semblance of a family, but I can only do so much with my schedule." Letting Chris massage his hand, Wesker relaxed slightly and rested his back against the tub.

"What was his name?" Chris finally asked. He took his willingness to actually give him a glimpse of his personal life as a good sign, and would try and use it to his advantage.

Maybe it was Wesker's way of apologising.

"William... William Birkin. He was one of my first companions after I moved to the States."

"Where did you grow up before?" Chris asked, going to kiss the palm of Wesker's hand.

"Oxford… it's close to London. I lived with my family there until I was thirteen and was accepted to an elite school in the United States. I was what my parents liked to call a gifted child." Letting Chris kiss his hand, Wesker gently took it back and grabbed a bar of soap before he began to wash himself. "My parents are still in England, but I haven't spoken to them for some time. Family bonds were never really that important to us."

"Do you miss them?" Chris asked, hanging off of every word Wesker said. This was the most he had ever heard about Wesker's personal life, and every little detail was important to Chris, no matter how trivial it may be to someone else.

Taking a while to reply, Wesker washed his arms and chest before pausing, soap resting in his hand. "Sometimes… but I try not to let attachments get in the way of my personal goals."

"I noticed…" Chris mumbled. Shrugging off his jacket, Chris hung it on the end of the towel rack before grabbing the soap to begin washing Wesker's back, feeling him stiffen before relaxing further as Chris massaged his shoulders. "Think you would ever let anything get in the way of personal goals?"

It was a simple question, but a loaded one at the same time.

"Well, the possibility of a heart attack has certainly slowed me down…" Wesker said, groaning as Chris moved to massage the nape of his neck, the smell of sandalwood permeating the air. "And sometimes… I allow myself a few indulgences here and there by allowing myself to let go for a time and just… breathe. Mostly it happens… well, it happens more frequently when I'm with you."

Chris tried not to show how much what he said affected him, and continued to massage for some time until the urge to kiss Wesker overcame him. Dropping down on his knees beside the tub to stare at Wesker, Chris watched as he leaned back, his gaze searching Chris' face for… something.

Moving forward, Chris captured Wesker's lips with his own and kissed him gently, feeling a hand come up to run along his jaw line as he did so. The kiss didn't last long, but it was enough to make Chris forget about their argument the other day. What had been said was just Wesker lashing out, a desperate attempt to keep their relationship from becoming something he was probably afraid of- a committed one. Or that was what Chris let himself believe, otherwise…

"You've stopped shaving…" Wesker said after they broke away, fingers feeling the stubble that adorned his jaw. "Was this some rebellious move against me?"

Seeing the subtle smirk appear, Chris smiled too and kissed Wesker quickly again before resting against the edge of the tub. Deciding not to answer, Chris shrugged and went to ask another question, a simple one this time. "What's your favourite colour?"

"Black."

"That's a shade… What's your favourite colour?"

"Blue, I suppose- dark blue."

"Favourite kind of food?"

"Do you want style, for example Chinese or Greek, or did you want a specific dish?" Wesker asked while he began to wash his hair with a special shampoo that smelt so good Chris wanted to hug him and never let go in order to breathe it all in.

"Your choice," Chris said, hand dipping into the water to run up and down Wesker's thigh in an innocent way. He wasn't looking for sex, but he wanted to touch Wesker after abstaining for a week.

"I like Italian food- it's light and if prepared correctly it can be incredibly healthy." Sliding under the water, Wesker rinsed his hair out before sitting up. "Please move, I'd like to get out before I wrinkle."

Laughing, Chris stood up and left the bathroom, images of a raisin with sunglasses on accompanying him to the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, Chris pressed his fingers together and watched Wesker dry himself through the crack in the door. He was expecting Wesker to blow-dry his hair and moisturize the crap out of his skin like he always did before returning, but found Wesker leaving the bathroom almost as quickly as he had.

Still completely nude, Wesker wandered over to his dresser and shuffled around in the top drawer for some time, fingers ghosting over overnight wear before he paused. Turning his head slightly, Wesker spoke over his shoulder, voice betraying no emotion.

"Did you want to stay the night?"

Chris had desperately hoped Wesker would request he stay the night- maybe show Chris that he _wanted_ him there rather than Chris being the one who was given the 'treat' or the 'honour' of being with Wesker that night. He wanted to hear 'Would you please stay the night with me?', but knew that would never happen, no matter how open Wesker became with his feelings.

"Uh… did you want me to?" he asked, trying to get Wesker to just admit having some company tonight would be appreciated. Sure, he was being pushy, but if Wesker was willing to admit his favourite colour, then maybe he'd be willing to admit he liked it when Chris visited for the night.

"It is your choice," Wesker said, going back to his inspecting of undergarments. But none of them seemed suitable, and Wesker closed it without taking anything out. Going back to the bed, he stood in front of Chris, suddenly giving Chris a very close view of his flaccid cock.

Never would Chris have guessed he'd be so comfortable in the presence of a nude man before him…but stranger things had happened.

"Are you going to stay or not? You're sitting on my side of the bed and I'd like to sleep," Wesker stated, drawing Chris' gaze upwards.

"Sure… sure," Chris mumbled, deciding driving home and getting to bed there would take longer. He still wasn't incredibly happy with their relationship now- after all, Wesker hadn't really apologized for what he had said, and he still hadn't admitted that maybe there was more to their relationship than at first glance. But with Wesker opening up to him like that, the fractures that had made an appearance in their commitment had begun to repair.

Standing up, Chris let Wesker take 'his' side of the bed while he pulled off his shirt and pants before ripping his socks off. He was about to get in before Wesker sent Chris a look that demanded… something.

"What?" Chris asked, poised half on top of the bed.

Staring at Chris, Wesker opened his mouth before closing it. Looking away quickly, he stared dead ahead before speaking. "If you could take off your underwear I would appreciate it… I… I like the feeling of your skin against mine."

Grinning, Chris nodded and got back up to take them off, tossing them on top of the rest of his clothes. Finally getting under the covers, Chris scooted close and wrapped his arms around Wesker's waist, lips finding purchase on the back of his neck.

"When are you back at work?" Chris asked, closing his eyes as soon as he felt Wesker relax.

"Monday… and not a day too soon, either."

There was silence between the two for a time before Chris spoke again, wanting to touch on Monday at least a little bit. "Sorry about punching you on Monday… even though I think you deserved it."

"I was expecting it," Wesker said, his voice a little distant, almost as if he was falling asleep. "I had said some… uncouth things, and a punch to the face was something I deserved… I suppose."

He hadn't apologized- not like Chris would have liked, anyways- but he had agreed and seemed to see the slight 'flaw' in his entire approach to the situation. While that was enough for Chris, there was still a nagging feeling inside him, an ache that wasn't going away. He knew that their relationship was dangerous- volatile and explosive. But maybe, if Wesker opened up once and again and continued to tell the truth, they would make it work…

Maybe.

* * *

_Wesker is a LIAR! A sneaky little LIAR! Of course, that's what we love about him- well, some of what we like about him. Shifty bugger... Anyways, thanks once again for the reviews/favourites/watches! You're ridiculously awesome and cool! And hopefully the next chapter will not be delayed! We're getting close to the end of 'Act I'. I've started to think of this story coming in 'Acts' like a play, and the end of Act I and beginning of Act II is soooon. _


	29. Theft

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does._

_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note:** Hey guys, I have a question for you all! Have you been reading and enjoying State of Flux? Have you been supporting me? Have you reviewed the last 2 chapters? Well, if you answered yes to two of those, I would go to my profile and click on the youtube link at the top of the page! It's a video I made thanking all of you, and giving shout outs to those who reviewed chapter 27/28 and to people who are awesome! So go watch the video when you're done! Also, this chapter is dedicated to** Necrononymous! **

* * *

**Chapter 29- Theft**

_ The more laws and order are made prominent, __the more thieves and robbers there will be. ~Lao Tzu~_**  
**

"I wish it would stop raining already," Jill mumbled from her seat in Chris' car, eyes slightly glazed over as she stared at the water droplets slide across the window.

Smiling, Chris turned a corner and shrugged, flipping the wipers down to a slower speed as the rain stopped- for a time. "You know what they say- April showers bring May flowers!"

"Yeah, but did they actually have to experience April showers? It's been raining for the past week and it's getting frustrating." As if to uphold what she said, Chris drove through a particularly large puddle, the water rising up to splash against the side of the vehicle.

It was true what she had said, though. For the past week the skies had been clouded over, rain falling or stopping for a short time in order to lull the inhabitants of Racoon City into a false sense of liberation.

While Chris didn't mind the rain, he certainly missed the sun. Even though it peeked out from behind the clouds to show itself every so often, the lack of constant sunshine had begun to dampen his mood, as well as everyone else's in the city.

But Jill seemed the most defeated by it, making Chris wonder why she would get so gloomy when it rained too much. She wasn't all smiles and laughs in the morning like she used to be- instead, she came in nursing a cup of coffee and a stoic expression on her face.

He suspected that something more was up than just the weather, and tried to pry something out of her during lunch earlier that day. Unfortunately, he met Jill's darker side, as well as the pronged end of a fork close to his hand, and decided to stop asking her why she looked so upset and instead offered to help her with her physical combat training.

Jill, despite being tough, still had the petite size that could get her into trouble if she were to encounter an attacker much larger than her. While Chris didn't want to say it was because she was a woman that worried him so much, he had to admit her gender did factor into her ability to take a punch to the face or a bear hug from behind.

After their shift was done for the day, he and Jill ventured down to the gym and practiced their self defence moves, with Chris using his full force a few times to see how well she fared. She did well, considering she admitted feeling a little less than confident in her ability, but there was still work to be done.

For now, though, the two of them were exhausted, battered, bruised, and ready for a hot shower and a good night's rest.

"So your house is two blocks down from here, I guess?" Chris asked as they turned another corner, arriving on a small shopping district that had quaint antique boutiques and cafés lining the strip.

"Two blocks down and then take a left, from there it's three houses… in… Wait, stop the car."

Jill's sudden urgency caused Chris to slow the car down, windshield wipers once more speeding up as the rain became heavy again. Jill was peering down an alleyway, her eyes locked onto something.

Moving forward in his seat, Chris kept his foot on the break and looked over Jill's shoulder, trying to see what she was seeing. "What is it?"

"It looks like a person…" she mumbled, eyes narrowing before she growled softly. "Damn rain drops getting in the way."

Throwing open the door, Jill tried to get a better look before whatever was in the alleyway took off quickly, something glinting in their hand. Not wasting a second, Jill unbuckled herself and shot off across the street towards the alleyway.

"Fuck, wait up!" Chris cried, putting the car into reverse before getting it to go into park. Taking off his seatbelt, Chris jumped out and followed Jill to where she had stopped briefly.

"They were trying to break in," Jill said, looking at a window of a store that had been crudely pried at with what might have been a crowbar.

"They couldn't have gone far," Chris said, suddenly desperate for some action. He could already feel the adrenaline rushing through his system as the prospect of a _hunt_ overcame him. That was one of the reasons why Chris loved being a cop- the excitement that came from chasing and catching a criminal was almost better than sex for Chris.

Chris heard Jill try and stop him, a hand reaching out to prevent him from rushing head first into this, but he didn't pay her any mind. The perp only had one direction to run from the alleyway, and if he was faster than them, he'd pretty much have them trapped.

Rushing down the alleyway, Chris turned the corner and avoided the dead end on the other side, his flimsy pair of sneakers already getting soaked as he ran through numerous puddles. He could hear Jill's voice from behind, but ignored her in favour of the sound of blood rushing through his ears and the muffled splash of someone running through water close by.

Taking off in the direction of the sound, Chris blinked back the water in his face, ducking his head ever so slightly in order to prevent too much rain from hindering his vision. He knew the person must be close by- he could almost feel it in his bones.

In the back of his mind he knew what he was doing was dangerous- that running into such a situation with little assessment and no partner might be suicide, but Chris had been so desperate for action the past couple of weeks he thought he might go stark crazy.

There had been no cases for the STARS unit for some time, and they had all been reduced to regular cop patrols, watching the streets for any situation that needed dealing with. Of course, most of them were easy enough cases, ones that ended up with more paper work than anything.

But now, now this was something Chris could sink his teeth into.

Rounding another corner after he saw a flash of movement in that direction, Chris had to slow himself down as he came to another dead end, a chain link fence blocking the way of anyone trying to get through.

Stopping at the entrance, Chris looked around, the rain coming down even harder. With a hand near the gun resting at his side, Chris' fingers twitched ever so slightly as water ran down his neck and across his spine, jacket already soaked through.

"I'd suggest coming out now," Chris called out, and was just about to take out his gun before a blinding pain shot through the back of his head before following the same trail as the rain down his back.

A moment passed in which all Chris could think was 'Fuck' before darkness became his world.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"… Chris…. Chris…"

There was someone… touching him. No, they were shaking him. Cold hands were pressed against his shoulder and they were calling out his name. He could feel water on his face, a constant patter of rain falling over his features, and an intense ache accompanied every splash to his face.

His head hurt like a son of a bitch, but he pushed back the pain in favour of wondering…

Where the hell was he?

Finally opening his eyes, Chris looked up at the person who had been shaking him, and watched as Jill's features slowly came into view, only to become fuzzy again as his eyes desperately tried to focus.

"Wha… What happened?" Chris mumbled, his voice suddenly sounding extremely loud in his ears. His head was pounding even more, and for a second he thought he was going to throw up.

He didn't remember what happened- he didn't even know how he got here. Last he remembered was… going over to Wesker's desk to ask him about some papers he needed… When was that? A week, a day, or an hour ago?

"You were chasing after someone and they managed to hit you in the head with a trashcan." Jill's voice went from sounding too loud to too quiet, and Chris was having trouble listening to her while thinking.

"I don't remember that," Chris finally said, trying to sit up with Jill's help. A moment passed in which the throbbing in the back of his head intensified and he swore he was going to pass out again before Jill tugged him up, bringing the pain back but breaking that unconscious boundary he had been coasting along.

"-concussion. We should get you to the hospital," Jill said, with Chris only tuning in for the end.

Where was he and what happened?

"What happened, where am I?" he asked, not knowing he had already asked the exact question seconds ago. Standing up, Chris had to lean against Jill, her smaller frame holding him up as they headed for… Where were they headed?

"Yeah, definitely, a concussion- come on, we're going to the hospital to get you checked out." Jill sounded relieved, annoyed, and exhausted all in one go, and Chris wondered what he had done to get her so upset.

But what was more worrying was his inability to focus on anything. His thoughts were jumbled, and he was finding it impossible to think properly with the constant throbbing in his head and the dizziness that plagued his every movement.

They finally reached his car that was still running in the middle of the street, and Chris didn't even complain as Jill put him in the passenger seat, helping him buckle up like a small child.

"Where are we going?" he asked again, already forgetting. Or perhaps she hadn't told him where they were going; he couldn't be sure.

"The hospital, Chris… you hit your head," Jill said as she got into the driver's seat, fingers searching for the seat adjuster.

Nodding, Chris felt another stab of pain and went to cradle the back of his head just as the car began to move, Jill taking it a little slower than she normally would in order to get used to the car. It was a good thing the roads were mostly deserted.

The drive to the hospital was spent in relative silence, the only conversation occurring when Chris would ask a question, desperate for some memory of what had happened. The last thing he remembered was getting that paperwork from Wesker, an event that, according to Jill, occurred early that morning.

When they arrived at the hospital, they were quickly checked in, thanks to Jill flashing her badge and explaining the situation. It didn't take too long for the doctor to conclude Chris had a mild concussion, and that he just had to take it easy for a few days and take pain medication when it hurt too much.

Chris wished he had been given some right away, but had to wait until they got back to his apartment and all of his glorious pain meds were spread out before him, thanks to Jill mothering him like he was a small child.

"I wasn't sure which kind you use," Jill explained as Chris inspected the seven kinds of pills she had brought out from the bathroom and placed on the living room table.

"Ones that knock me out…" Chris mumbled, picking up a bottle of Tylenol. "Or take away the pain."

"Is sleeping such a good idea after what happened?" Jill asked, forgetting to ask the doctor if it was wise to let Chris sleep or not. She had heard you shouldn't let them sleep, and on other occasions heard it was okay…

Popping a few pills, Chris shrugged and rested back against the couch, Jill following suit until they were both leaning against the back, staring straight ahead at the television.

"Last time… Can you go over what happened today?" Chris asked after a moment of silence. He knew he had probably asked six times already, but this was the last time. He could already feel the pain subsiding, and some clarity was taking over. If he didn't move his head too much, he'd be fine.

"You were driving me home after we had sparred after hours at work. When we were a few blocks from my house, I saw someone trying to break into a shop. We stopped to investigate, and you ended up running off like a mad man to get the criminal. When you got to a dead end, you failed to realize there were a bunch of dumpsters behind you, and the perp must have been hiding behind them.

"You ended up getting hit in the back of the head with one of the trashcans, and were out for probably five minutes until you came back… in a very confused and pain-filled state."

Jill explained it carefully and slowly, probably hoping if she went slowly enough Chris would eventually soak it all in and stop asking.

"Did you get the guy?" he asked, turning his head slowly to gaze at Jill, already realizing that if she had, they would have taken him to the police station.

Sighing, Jill shook her head and ran a hand through her hair. "No, I saw them take off, but I was more concerned with you. Besides, they left enough evidence that we'll get them soon enough. When you were getting checked out I called the incident in and the regular police are probably already at the site."

"Quick thinking… Too bad I wasn't thinking at all when I did that." Frowning, Chris turned away from Jill and closed his eyes. He was stupid- a complete and utter fool. Running off alone was probably the first thing you learnt not to do in the police force, and yet he'd done just that.

All for a petty burglar.

"Yeah, you weren't… dolt."

Chris cracked an eye open and looked over to see Jill smiling slightly as she curled up on the couch, eyes closing.

"You should go home and get some sleep, I'll be fine. Take my Jeep and I'll pick it up at the RPD later on. I live closer to work than you do," Chris said, noticing how tired she actually was.

Shrugging, Jill stayed where she was. "I think I'll stick around and wait to see if you die. Captain Wesker should know if you pass away on us."

"Fuck…"

Chris suddenly realized that Wesker, when finding out about what Chris had done, would most likely hit him on the head a few times in order to show him what _real_ brain damage was like.

"Don't tell Wesker about this, please," Chris began, trying to keep his voice low in fear of hurting his own head. "He's literally going to kill me... or fire me. Or fire me and _then_ kill me."

"I doubt he's going to do that, Chris. He's probably going to ream you out for being an idiot, but killing you is a little extreme."

Shaking his head, Chris caught himself and grasped the back of his head to stop the feeling of his brain knocking against his skull, grimacing as he did so. "No, he will kill me. Please… please don't tell him."

"Chris… we have to. If we catch the person then they'll be charged for assaulting a police officer. Not to mention we're part of the investigation into the burglary, so questions will be asked."

"Just don't tell him I ran off by myself… and that I got hit in the head. Say we saw the person, called the police, and when I don't come in tomorrow say I have a cold… Please, Jill!"

Chris was practically begging now- actually, he was begging. And he was fully prepared to start bribing her if it got her to keep her mouth shut.

"Fine… Fine, I won't tell." Sitting up, Jill opened her eyes and glared at Chris. "You're such a child sometimes…"

Pouting, Chris pointed to his head. "A child who's been incredibly hurt, but is forever in debt to you for agreeing not to tell Wesker about tonight."

Rolling her eyes, Jill pushed Chris gently before resting back against the couch. The smile that had been playing at her lips left soon after, though, and Chris desperately wanted to see it return.

"Hey… Why all the frowning lately?" he asked, trying to see if she'd finally open up.

"Not this again," she mumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Come on, Chris, I already said I didn't want to talk about it."

"No, you threatened me with a fork, but you never said you didn't want to talk about it. Come on, open up a little… Chances are, given the current state of my head I won't even remember this come tomorrow. So you could very well tell me every dark secret and all I'll remember is asking you a million times where I was and how I got there… Which is still a little fuzzy, by the way."

Taking a moment, Jill looked down at her lap, gaze fixed on her fingers, which were playing with a loose string on the bottom of her shirt. "My Dad is sick… really sick."

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that," Chris mumbled, not knowing what to do now that she told him.

"There is more to it than that, though," she said, ripping the loose thread out. "He's sick and I haven't seen him in three years on account of him being in fucking jail."

Well that threw him for a loop.

"Your Dad is…in jail?" Chris asked, wondering when, or if, Jill was ever going to tell him this.

"Yeah, he got thrown in three years ago right after my 19th birthday. He was a professional burglar, or a cat burglar, I guess… He's the one that taught me how to pick locks. Of course, when he taught me I was too young to really think about it, and by the time I was old enough I didn't stop to wonder…"

Chris didn't know what to say- but he certainly found the irony in it. Jill was now one of the best cops in town and just tried to apprehend a burglar with him, while her very own father was busy serving time in jail for that very crime.

But pushing the irony aside, Chris found himself seeing Jill a little differently. She must have been keeping it bottled up for so long. The stigma of having your own father in jail would certainly wear at the mind of any police officer, especially one as morally straight as Jill.

And the fact that he was sick just added to the tension he saw across her features as of late.

"So are you going to go see him?" Chris asked after a time, wanting to reach out to her somehow, but realizing she might not appreciate that.

"I… I don't know. That's why I've been so caught up in my own world lately. I mean, I promised myself I wouldn't see him ever again- after he lost the trial and it was proven he was guilty, I couldn't look him in the eyes. I mean… was my entire life built upon stolen goods and things that weren't really mine?

"I kept wondering those things after he went to jail, and that's why I ended up in Racoon. I figured I would tear myself away from what I had grown up on- no longer would I let my parents support me with money that I didn't believe was actually theirs. I wanted to make something of myself, and to disassociate myself with what my father had done… and now…now, I think if I see him, then I'll be right back where I was before."

Listening carefully, Chris sighed and held his arm out, indicating she should scoot over. When she gave him a reproachful look, Chris indicated once again before she finally moved over to let Chris give her a hug.

"You're not like him, Jill. You're a strong, righteous, independent woman who always does the right thing. And if you want to continue doing the right thing, then you should go see your Dad. He may not deserve the respect from you, but you're going to beat yourself up forever if you don't see him and he doesn't make it."

Rubbing her back, Chris could feel the tension slowly leave her body until she was resting against him. The hug soon turned into Chris just letting her lay against him, her head resting on his shoulder as they both soaked in what had been said.

Chris never knew this about Jill. In fact, he was beginning to realize he knew very little about her personal life before Racoon. Sure, he knew she was allergic to chocolate, had a boyfriend named Wilson, and loved Monty Python, but anything before the time she joined STARS was a mystery. It reminded Chris far too much of Wesker, and he hoped he would be able to get more out of her than his lover was willing to give up.

But with her telling him about her father and all of the worries she had surrounding him, Chris was beginning to piece together the life of a woman who continued to amaze Chris on a regular basis. He felt honoured that she would open up to him, even if it took a lot of coaxing on his part.

Now if only he was willing to open up about his personal life…

Finally, Jill lifted her head from Chris' shoulder and held out her hand, pinkie raised. "Pinkie promise you won't tell anyone?"

Laughing, Chris immediately regretted the action, but gave her the pinkie promise she had asked for. "I won't tell anyone, promise… Now get home before you fall asleep on me."

Nodding, Jill stood up and gave Chris a slightly patronizing kiss on the forehead. "Stay safe, you dolt."

"Thanks, you too." Rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand, Chris faked a disgusted look before getting up slowly to see her to the door.

Throwing her still damp jacket back on, Jill gave Chris one last hug before she turned to leave.

"Remember, don't tell Wesker," Chris said as she began to close the door. Simply winking, Jill shrugged before closing the door, leaving Chris to wonder if she was actually going to stay true to her word.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Let me in."

Swearing as soon as he heard Wesker's voice, Chris rested against the wall near his buzzer button for a moment, mentally preparing himself for whatever Wesker was here for.

Whatever it was, Chris knew it wasn't for kisses and sex.

Pressing the door button finally, Chris let Wesker in before going to lay back down on the couch, face stuffed in the pillows as he tried to convince himself Wesker believed the lie about his cold and was coming to check up on him for that.

He hadn't gone to work the next morning on account of the events last night. While his head didn't hurt as much as it had last night, he still felt groggy and confused, the entire day up until the incident still forgotten. So he had stayed home and rested, napping for most of the day and only getting up to make food or go to the washroom.

Sometimes it was good to just relax.

Waiting for Wesker to come upstairs, Chris just laid there, waiting… and waiting… and waiting.

He waited a good five minutes until he finally got up and headed to the door, wondering where Wesker was and what was taking him so long. As soon as he opened it though, he was greeted with the sight of Wesker talking to his burly next door neighbour.

His neighbour had moved in a few weeks after he had back in September. While they never really talked much, they had shared the same bond of being bachelors in a small city, and occasionally spoke when they would meet at their doors.

He was an okay guy, but not the smartest bulb in the batch. He constantly wore a baseball cap with his favourite hockey team logo on it, and listened to his television far too loudly when a game was on. But Chris never complained about the noise, especially when he knew he could be loud on occasion as well.

Like when he almost burnt his apartment down trying to cook a pizza…

But then his neighbour got himself a girlfriend, right around the same time Chris was getting closer to Wesker. For a while, things were okay… until the hockey game noises turned into sex sounds.

Now, Chris wasn't a prude, but having the sound of a woman screaming out 'Ryan' in her obnoxious New Jersey accent every other night began to wear at Chris' nerves. So one day, Chris, very kindly, asked Ryan if he could go easier on his girlfriend next time on account of him having to be up early for work.

Ryan agreed that they were being too loud- end of story.

Until today…

"Look, buddy; don't get all mighty on me by using big words like that. I just want you and your gay love to stop making so much noise, all right?"

"Gay love? You mean Christopher? I thought you would have known your own neighbour's name by now," Wesker said, his hands in his pockets as he looked at Ryan, an air of annoyance surrounding him.

"Speak of the devil- hey, Chris! Stop screaming, all right? It's bad enough I live next to a gay guy, I don't want to hear about how fucking amazing this guy's dick is." Emphasising the last bit, Ryan jabbed a finger at Wesker, making him bristle slightly.

"You do realize it is considered rude in many cultures to point at someone," said Wesker, and Chris could see him resist the urge to push his hand down.

"Hey, Ryan… I didn't know I was that loud. I'm sorry, I'll keep it down," Chris said, trying to alleviate the situation while retaining some dignity. He didn't go on about how amazing Wesker's dick was… not too much, at least.

"You better, because I think I know all the positions you two do now just by how fucking loud you can get. It's a good thing your partner here isn't a moaner," Ryan said, giving Wesker one last look before turning to go back into his apartment.

A second passed in the hallway before Wesker invited himself into Chris' apartment, shrugging his spring coat off in one fluid motion.

"I'm not that loud, am I?" Chris asked as soon as the door was closed, his cheeks slightly red from embarrassment.

"No, he was exaggerating. You do moan, but you're usually fairly quiet. But sometimes… sometimes I am apparently skilled enough with my tongue and cock that you get a little too loud, though," Wesker said casually, pulling Chris to the couch where he sat him down before sitting on the coffee table across from him. "Just don't get too loud next time. This is the second complaint we've had in the past three months."

"He's just pissed off I called him out on his sex sounds a few weeks ago- hey, what the hell?" In the middle of his explanation, Wesker, out of seemingly nowhere, grabbed Chris' face and tried to pry his eye open, a flashlight in one hand while thin fingers went dangerously close to his eye.

Pushing Wesker away, Chris gave him his best shocked expression and went to rub his eye.

"I was checking the dilation of your pupils, to see how your concussion affected you," he said, reaching for Chris again, flashlight and hand at the ready.

Letting Wesker touch him, he tried not to squint while Wesker shined the light in one eye, and then the next.

"Who told you?" Chris finally asked as soon as Wesker put the flashlight back in his pocket. Reaching forward, Wesker felt the back of Chris' head carefully, fingers finding the goose egg that had formed.

"The criminal told me," Wesker mumbled, pressing slightly, making Chris wince in pain. "Did you fall forward or backward?"

"Forward- and how did the criminal tell you?" asked Chris, just as Wesker started to pull at Chris' shirt, trying to take it off. Raising his arms, Chris let him remove the garment before looking down to inspect his shoulder.

He had fallen forward and more on his right shoulder when he fell, and a large bruise had already begun to form. It hurt a little, but Chris could deal with the soreness if it meant Wesker was going to touch it in such an uncharacteristically gentle manner.

"They handed themselves in- a Ms. Kimberly, I believe. I gather once she realized she was going to get caught for either assaulting a police officer or breaking and entering, she might as well make it easier on all of us…" Wesker said, thin fingers running along Chris' shoulder before going to push gently while his other hand moved Chris' arm forward, feeling the shoulder move.

"Oh… well I guess- ouch… I guess this is the point in time where you yell at me," Chris mumbled, wincing as Wesker applied more pressure. God, his fingers sure were skilled at applying the most pain or the most pleasure, whichever he so desired at the time.

"No. Now let us go to your bedroom," Wesker said, standing up before going to the main door. Taking his shoes off, Wesker looked over at Chris, who was still sitting on the couch, incredibly confused.

Why wasn't Wesker going to yell at him? Why was he poking and prodding him like an animal? And more importantly, was he going to get _laid_?

"Are you going to go to your bed or not?" Wesker asked, not waiting for an answer before he went off anyways, leaving Chris to trail behind. Turning around, Wesker indicated to the bed by pointing to it before he moved to take his dress shirt off, leaving him in his work pants and a white undershirt.

"What are you doing?" Chris asked, going to sit on the bed. Rubbing the back of his head gently, Chris watched as Wesker moved to sit behind him on his knees, hands wrapping around to feel Chris' shoulder once again.

"You wrenched your shoulder an awful lot when you fell. If the muscles aren't worked both in the back and front, you're going to have difficulty moving it soon enough. We can't have you away on leave for more than a few days, and a shoulder injury could complicate things," Wesker explained, his warm breath sliding across Chris' cheek. "So don't think of this as a massage to relax you- this is going to be painful."

And just to emphasise his point, Wesker began to work on the muscles, fingers digging into the bruise. Gasping, Chris' first reaction was to pull away from the pain, but Wesker caught him with an arm wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush against his chest.

"Don't make this more difficult than it has to be," Wesker murmured. Pausing his ministrations for a second, Wesker seemed to wait to see if Chris would try and pull away, but seemed pleased enough when Chris relaxed as much as he could.

What Wesker had said held a lot of water, and although Chris was a little upset he was getting a painful massage with no promise of some pleasant activities after, he realized that without something done, his shoulder probably would hurt him later on.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Chris asked, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Yes."

Without elaborating, Wesker continued with his massage, fingers being careful around the bruised area, but digging deep into the shoulder blade. But as soon as Wesker moved from the front of his shoulder to the back, Chris could concentrate on something other than pain, and let his head fall forward as Wesker let up on some of the digging.

"Why aren't you angry at me?" he finally asked, closing his eyes as he rocked with the motion of Wesker's massage.

There was silence for a time, and Chris thought maybe Wesker hadn't heard him until he replied. "Your injuries are enough punishment, I believe. It's obvious you got off easy this time, but next time when you feel the need to chase after someone who may have a dangerous weapon, you'll remember this encounter."

"Learn from my own mistakes, right?" Chris said, turning to look over his shoulder. Wesker stopped his massage and stared back at Chris, his sunglasses still on, hiding what he was thinking.

"Right." Nodding, Wesker pushed Chris' head back so he was once again staring at his hands, and continued to work out the knots until he seemed pleased enough. He must have been working on his shoulder for a good fifteen minutes until he got off of the bed and headed towards the kitchen, Chris admiring his ass for a moment before he tried to follow.

"Stay where you are," Wesker called over his shoulder, without even looking behind to see Chris getting up. Sitting slowly back down, Chris furrowed his eyebrows and waited, listening to the noises Wesker was making in the kitchen.

He certainly felt like a small child at the moment…

Lying down on the bed, Chris stared up at the ceiling, thinking of nothing in particular. He waited a good ten minutes until he heard the whistle of his kettle, followed by the sound of water being poured into… something. Sitting up, Chris noticed Wesker holding a hot water bottle he hadn't even remembered owning, as well as a small towel with little ducks running along the edges- a house warming gift from his aunt.

"Lie down on your back and make yourself comfortable," Wesker instructed, standing beside the bed, watching Chris like a hawk.

Sliding further up the bed, Chris fluffed his pillow up as much as he could before lying flat on his back, hands resting on his stomach as he looked up at Wesker expectantly.

"Keep this on your shoulder for fifteen minutes. After that, let it relax before stretching it out a few times a day, applying heat when needed," Wesker began to explain while he placed the towel on Chris' shoulder, followed by the water bottle. "And continue to take your regular pain medication for your head… You've acquired quite the bump."

Putting his hand on the water bottle, Chris managed to catch Wesker's hand in his own, fingers quickly interlocking together. "Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?"

Wesker once again paused and simply squeezed Chris' hand before taking his own back. "I can't have you down and out for the count- you're too important for Alpha Team."

"Is that it?" he asked, hoping Wesker would once again admit something deeper.

He knew he was fishing, but it felt like he was always fishing with Wesker. It was rare for him to admit any personal feelings, and when he did they were usually quick and abrupt, an awkwardness and forcefulness behind it that made Chris wonder what had happened to him as a young person that made him so god damn bitter.

But when he did receive those few admissions- the ones in which Wesker actually made eye contact and didn't shut down completely after- left Chris feeling like he accomplished something. Without even knowing it, Chris had made it his mission to see Wesker open up more, to see him work more like a human being rather than a robot with occasional animalistic urgencies.

"Yes, that's it," Wesker stated, neither his voice nor his posture giving away anything. Sighing, Chris nodded and closed his eyes, deciding to sleep away the aches.

"Okay… Well, thanks for the help. I'm sure I'll be feeling it later, that's for sure," Chris mumbled.

"Be more careful next time," Wesker said, and Chris could hear him put his shirt back on before he left the room. A moment passed in which Chris expected the sound of his apartment door open and close to occur, but was surprised when he heard shuffling in his bedroom.

Opening his eyes, Chris looked up to see Wesker peering down at him, eyes narrowed behind tinted glass. "I forgot… next time you do something foolish such as this- don't ask Jill to cover for you."

"Heh… yeah." Giving Wesker a sheepish grin, Chris looked away nervously, realizing he probably got Jill in trouble too.

Wesker was about to leave again before Chris caught him at the door. "Is Jill all right?"

"I don't know, she left early today… She's not in trouble, though, if that's what you're asking."

"Left early? Why?" Chris asked, wanting to know if she was okay.

"She said something about seeing her father… In any matter, it is none of your concern. Now get some rest and don't fall asleep with that on you."

And with that, Wesker officially left Chris to his own thoughts and muscle aches.

* * *

_Gaaaaaaay! Now go watch that youtube video! _


	30. Happiness

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom & Alexandre Dumas do._

_Warning: Graphic Man/Man Sex_

**Authors Note: **Chapter 30 is upon us! And it is a very, very important chapter- I'll give you a hint, it involves actual canon storyline and will lead us very close to... zombies! Oh boy! Anyways, thanks for all the positive feedback and for your undying support! Also, I recently got a Tumblr. You should all check it out if you have one as well, I left a link on my profile! My name is lemon-sprinkles on there, too!_  
_

* * *

**Chapter 30- Happiness**

_Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it. ~Groucho Marx~_

It was strange, mused Chris, how accustomed he and Wesker had become to seeing each other in the morning. What was even stranger was how quickly they became used to 'living together' in the strictest sense of the term.

For the past week, the building Chris lived in was having outer facial construction, with the old brickwork coming off only to be replaced with cheap beige siding that would no doubt warp in the summer heat. Chris had decided that he would really rather not wake up at six in the morning for two weeks because of the noise, look out his window to six men climbing around outside his apartment, and have one of them no doubt look inside on the very day Chris decided to wear his heart print boxers to bed.

So he managed to convince Wesker to let him stay with him for a few weeks while the men finished their construction- an event that was already giving most people who lived there a headache. Well, he didn't so much convince him as he bribed him by arriving outside his apartment with a duffle bag in one hand and a coupon for a free lemon meringue pie slice at the local bakery in the other.

But what mattered was, for the fifth time this week, Chris was standing in the bathroom with only his boxers on, a toothbrush shoved in his mouth, and his hair a complete mess while Wesker stood a slight distance behind him, dressed in a similar fashion except he had managed to get some pants on and fix his hair somewhat.

Finishing cleaning his teeth, Chris spit out the toothpaste that had collected in his mouth before being shoved out of the way as Wesker went to fix his hair further, thin fingers reaching upward to carefully push loose hairs back and in working order.

"This is weird," Chris finally said, watching as Wesker grabbed a comb and began to style his hair further.

Not answering for a time, Wesker adjusted a few strands before raising an eyebrow, his gaze moving from his own reflection to Chris'. "You've seen me style my hair numerous times before, Chris… I don't see why you have to point this out now."

"I'm not talking about your hair obsession, I'm talking about how… how normal we are right now… like, you know… we're acting like some married couple," Chris replied, hand going down to scratch himself as he waited once more for the sink.

Wesker paused his combing and Chris could see his eyes avert to where his hand currently was before going back to his own reflection. "If you're uncomfortable with the situation we've set up, then perhaps you should go home."

Shaking his head, Chris went to sit on the toilet, a yawn escaping. While he found their new domestic lifestyle strange, he wasn't going to complain about it enough that he'd want to leave. He just found it… odd, how easily they slipped into the rolls of roommates, even though it would only last for another week or so.

He liked it to some extent, though. It was nice to wake up and see Wesker there… Well, he more often saw Wesker's backside as he got dressed for the day, and would then proceed to admire it before falling asleep for another twenty minutes, until he would get up and get ready for work with the bathroom finally free for him to use. The point was, though, that they had easily set up something that worked for the two of them, lulling Chris further into the belief that they were making it work, and that their relationship was stable. It was… nice, he decided.

Weird and confusing at times, but nice none the less.

"Why are you up so early on your day off?" Wesker finally asked, putting his comb down before he went to brush his teeth.

"Well, seeing as how most of the STARS members are taking advantage of the Memorial Day holiday, unlike yourself, some of us decided to go to the park and secure ourselves a picnic table by the outdoor pool before it gets too busy." Sitting back against the toilet, Chris shivered as the cold porcelain touched his skin but stayed where he was, the cool touch a nice reprieve from the warm air in the stuffy bathroom.

Chris waited while Wesker brushed his teeth, eyes glazing over as he stared at the wall in front of him, mind wandering over the list of things he had to buy for the picnic before he arrived at Jill's to pick her up for their day out together. He had been looking forward to this holiday for a while, and didn't mind getting up earlier than usual in order to secure a good spot in what was guaranteed to be a busy area on such a day.

"Who's going?"

Snapping his attention back to Wesker, Chris noticed he had managed to brush his teeth and rinse his mouth with mouthwash before Chris had even gotten through his mental list of chip flavours he had to get.

"Uh, Jill, Forest, Joseph, Brad, and Richard… Why, did you want to come?" Smiling, Chris stood up and tugged Wesker close, hand grasping his wrist to pull him over. Feeling Wesker's arms automatically wrap around his waist, Chris smiled and kissed him quickly, finally sharing their good morning kiss.

"I have work to do. Besides… I burn in the sun," Wesker said, going to bite Chris' bottom lip gently.

"Who works on a national holiday?" Chris asked, pouting slightly, which only gave Wesker more lip to nibble on.

"I do, as well as half the city. You should be grateful I've given you all the day off," he mumbled before kissing Chris again, his tongue sliding against the seam of Chris' lips. Opening his mouth, Chris moaned softly as Wesker went to suck on his tongue, spearmint invading his senses.

Breaking the kiss, Chris smiled and gently touched the small of Wesker's back, making his back arch ever so slightly- pressing their bodies closer together. "Well… can I show you how grateful I am with some thank you sex?"

That was another great thing about living with Wesker- spontaneous sex.

"We both have places to be, dear heart," he said, their foreheads touching before Chris went to nuzzle him, warm breath dancing across a high cheekbone.

Grasping the back of Wesker's neck, Chris went to breathe in his scent, the spicy cologne he usually wore currently gone, leaving Chris with just the delicious and soothing smell of his skin. While he breathed in Wesker's scent, Chris could feel hands slip under his boxers, fingers going to squeeze and kneed his ass.

Groaning, Chris went to nibble on Wesker's earlobe before sucking on it, hearing him let out a large puff of air before one hand went to slide between Chris' cheeks, a finger pressing against his entrance in a teasing manner.

Rocking against Wesker, Chris could feel himself getting hard, and desperately wished Wesker hadn't put pants on so he could rub against a responding arousal.

"Come on… We've got plenty of t-time," Chris huffed out, voice already husky as Wesker's hands left his ass only to go and fondle his arousal and balls. "We can do it quick… We can suck each other off at the same time…"

He could feel Wesker falter for just a moment, his hands pausing for a split second before he moved to look at Chris, successfully tearing his mouth away from his ear. "If we're late because of this, I'm blaming it on you."

Smiling, Chris kissed Wesker before gasping as Wesker slid a finger over the tip of his dick. "Trust me, we won't be late."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"You two are late."

Forest stood beside the picnic table, his arms crossed over his chest as he desperately tried to look imposing while wearing a trucker hat and a pair of Hawaiian shorts. Taking the bag of chips Chris passed him, he continued to try and glare at Chris just as Jill adjusted her hat and proceeded to throw Chris in front of the proverbial bus.

"It's all his fault we're late. I was ready a good fifteen minutes before he finally showed up," she explained, hands on her hips as she looked over the already cluttered picnic table. An assortment of drinks and snacks were already piled high upon the flower tablecloth, and more seemed to be coming in a cooler that Brad and Joseph were wrestling with as they trudged down the hill towards the park.

Rolling his eyes, Chris went to unpack the chips he had bought, trying to fend off any obvious blush to his cheeks. "I was caught in traffic on my way to the grocery store. Morning traffic was a bitch."

Truth was, Chris had been busy sixty-nining their Captain, but it wasn't like he was about to admit that.

"Funny, I had no trouble getting here. Don't we live in the same neighbourhood?" Brad asked as soon as he and Joseph had gotten close enough to hear in on the conversation. Dropping the cooler beside the table, Joseph took off the bandana he seemed married to and stuffed it in his shorts pocket.

It was barely 10 in the morning and it was already getting hot. Chris thought it felt more like July than late May…

"I haven't been staying at my apartment for a week or so. They're doing some stupid renovations and it's been too noisy," Chris explained before realizing he had slipped up.

Inching closer to Chris, Forest poked him a few times, a cheeky grin on his features. "Not at home, eh? Where are you staying then… hmm?"

Rolling his eyes, Chris shoved Forest away and almost caused him to trip on the cooler as his strength got the better of him. "I'm staying at a motel, you fucking perv."

"Which motel?" Richard asked, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Where the fuck did you come from?" Chris asked, a little worried about the sudden interest in his life, coupled with the new found ninja abilities of his teammates.

Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, Richard indicated the outdoor pool area which was already filled with families and young teenagers. "I was seeing if it was even wise to try and go swimming."

"It looks really busy," Jill said, suddenly deflecting the conversation away from Chris' personal life. Whether she meant to or not, Chris was eternally grateful. "But if you guys want to brave the waves, then you should go and do it."

"What, you're not going to join us?" Forest asked, still rubbing his bruised shin after the cooler encounter.

"I'm not one for swimming in a pool with a bunch of little kids," she said, going to open a bag of chips. Sitting down on the bench beside Brad, Jill popped a chip in her mouth and sent Forest a grin.

"Most of the little kids are in the kiddy pool," Forest said, and Chris already knew where the conversation was going to go. Sitting down on the opposite side, Chris laced his fingers together and waited for the insult that was sure to come, and yet Forest would never expect.

"Really? Then how come you're talking about going into the regular pool?"

"… Are you insinuating that I am a small child?" Forest asked, a smirk appearing on his features.

Shrugging, Jill sent Forest another smile before taking another chip. "Maybe…"

Cracking his neck twice, Forest ran a hand through his long hair before returning the smile, eyes slightly narrowed. "You know this means war, right?"

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Who the fuck brought water guns?" Joseph asked, eyes narrowed as he and Chris crouched behind a rock in the middle of the park, bushes and trees hiding them from view.

Clutching his cheap yellow gun, Chris tried not to laugh at the situation and instead peeked through the bushes, hoping to see some hapless victim run by. "Forest, of course. He's the oldest, and yet he's the one who always gets us into these situations."

"It's always Forest…" Joseph mumbled, and Chris could hear the smallest hint of amusement in his voice.

After the conversation between Forest and Jill, things had gone back to normal, with everyone settling down to play a game of cards and eat chips, before Richard fired up the barbeque that was beside their table in order to cook up some hot dogs. Friendly conversations were had (Brad had a new girlfriend and Richard's dog had puppies a week ago), and it seemed like it was going to be a laid back afternoon, with no thoughts of work or drama at all.

That was until Forest pulled out water guns from his backpack and handed everyone one (they were already full- a sign that Forest had planned this down to the smallest detail), before squirting a stunned Jill in the face and then took off into the woods with Richard being dragged along with him.

Still in a state of disbelief, everyone who was left at the table stared at Jill, her eyes squeezed shut as water dripped off of her nose and onto the table, a few droplets sticking to her eyelashes. Seconds passed in which Chris thought she was going to explode, before she opened her eyes, wiped away the water, and then proceeded to get off of the bench and shoot off into the woods after Forest and Richard.

Chris thought that he, Joseph, and Brad were going to stay behind and wait to see who returned relatively dry, but was taken once again by surprise when Brad picked up his half empty water bottle and threw the contents at him and Joseph before following Jill down the path she had taken, not even waiting to assess the damage.

And of course, Chris and Joseph could not let such blatant disregard for their egos go unpunished, and soon joined in on the hunt. Looking back on it, Chris found the entire ordeal almost entirely too hilarious. After all, they were trained police officers and worked for the most elite branch in Racoon City, yet were busy putting all of their training to use by having a water gun fight in the park.

"So are we after just Chicken Heart, or are we going to get everyone?" Joseph asked after a time, the two of them still in position behind the bushes.

"Well Brad's teamed up with Jill, so we've gotta take both of them out in order to get to him. Meanwhile, I don't think Forest will give us much mercy if we come across him, so we should just destroy him when we see him… it'll make things easier," Chris said, his legs cramping after staying in the same position for over five minutes.

"… Think someone will try and guard one of the water stations?"

"Doubt it. The park is littered with small streams- we can easily refill anywhere—" Chris began before he stopped talking, a familiar figure appearing on the other side of the path from them.

"Hey, Forest, got wasted?" Joseph called out, seeing Forest's already soaked appearance. Although he couldn't see them just yet, Forest perked up at the sound of Joseph's voice, and looked around in their general direction. Keeping his distance, he fiddled with his plastic gun, his pose relaxed given the circumstances.

"Had a little accident with a slippery slope and a stream," Forest said, making Chris chuckle as hilarious images flashed through his mind. Of course Forest would manage to get _himself_ soaking wet in a battle royal water fight. "Now come on out of the bushes, you gay boys!"

"I don't think gay guys would be hiding in the bush! Just sayin'!" Chris shot out, trying hard not to laugh too much as Joseph almost tipped over chuckling.

There was silence for a time, and Chris watched Forest carefully through the leaves before he replied. "Touché."

"You guys should have really taken on just one man instead of waiting for two."

Turning around, Chris almost screamed like a little girl when he saw that Jill and Brad had managed to get behind them without being detected, their water pistols at the ready. He and Joseph tried to get out of bushes in a hurry, and managed to only get some water in their ears before they got free and ran past Forest, Joseph managing to spray him in the face in a drive-by shooting as they tore down the path before falling down a steep incline towards the stream.

Slowing his decent somewhat, Chris managed to stop just before the pond before Joseph tripped on some long grass and crashed into his back, making the two of them pitch forward into the stream.

Falling on his side, Chris felt the cold water slam against him and instinctively sat up as quickly as possible in an attempt to not drown. Joseph was making that incredibly difficult though, and the two of them splashed around for some time before they were sitting up, completely soaked in stream water.

"Not laughing now, are ya?" Forest yelled down to them, a huge grin plastered on his face as he stared down at the two of them.

Sloshing out of the water, Chris felt six times heavier and threw his white shirt off in an attempt to shed the pounds. Wringing out the edge of his swim trunks, Chris glared up at Forest, but couldn't help but smile. It was nice to act twelve again.

"You're one to talk- at least we fell in as a team. What happened to your stellar team?" Chris called up just as Joseph slipped on a rock as he tried to get out, causing him to fall back into the water.

"My stellar team is… non-existent. Richard ran off after I fell… he looked a little too pleased, I might add." Forest replied, a sudden paranoia surrounding him as he glanced around, a comical pose taken as he did so.

Helping Joseph out of the water, Chris tossed his wet shirt over his shoulder and attempted to get back up the slope, hands grasping and using the long grass as rope. It took both he and Joseph a pitiful amount of time getting up with no help from Forest, before they finally reached the peak.

Collapsing at the top, Chris looked up to see Joseph still had some fight left in him, and engaged Forest in a mini-water battle, the two of them running around in circles as they both tried to avoid and hit the other one.

The two of them finally ran out of water, and stood in front of each other, still pressing their triggers despite only little droplets of water coming out. Another minute or so passed before they sat down beside Chris, the three of them defeated and broken men after losing to something all young men should be armed and ready for- a battle that one could gain the highest honour and respect from…

A water gun fight.

"Nice chest hair."

Turning to look at Forest, Chris raised an eyebrow before looking down at his shaven chest. "I don't have any."

"Yeah, that's why I'm making fun of you," Forest said, sticking his tongue out.

"How old are you?" Joseph asked, stretching out under the canopy of trees, small rays of light reaching down towards them. Jill and Brad would no doubt swoop down to take them out in due time, and they figured being sitting ducks wasn't such a bad idea.

If only they knew where Richard was…

"Old enough that I can grow chest hair," Forest said, fingers going to comb through his long hair.

Chris respected Forest- he was, after all, his best friend. Whenever they had a mission or an important thing to carry out, Forest was all business. He followed orders, used his head in heavy and tense situations, and always managed to get the job done professionally. Chris figured that was why Wesker kept him around, because if he acted the way he did off duty, he figured Forest would have been out of the job long ago.

So yes, Chris respected Forest… but that didn't mean he wouldn't punch a man he respected.

Smacking him in the arm, Chris rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his chest. "I like having a smooth chest, all right? It's not like I can't grow chest hair either, I just like being baby smooth," he said, brushing off some drying mud that had clung to his arm.

It was true, Chris liked being baby smooth. It also helped that Wesker liked him being hairless too. There was nothing like running your hands over a strong, broad chest that was smooth and warm to the touch.

Just thinking about Wesker's chest began to make Chris a little more excited than he should be, and he squished the thought by turning to Joseph, who was still trying to dry his bandana.

"What's with the bandana?" he asked.

"Got it when I was ten from my mom," Joseph explained as he laid it down flat on the grass. "My mom bought it for me before… well, before she went off to Europe with some other man. She left my dad to raise me, and although I resented her for it, I can't part with the last gift she ever gave me…"

Clearing their throats, Chris and Forest both looked away, not knowing what to say; it wasn't every day a friend and co-worker revealed something like that. An uncomfortable silence came over them for some time, and Chris was about to start talking about anything but runaway parents before Joseph began to laugh, head tossed back in mirth.

Chris and Forest's attention quickly snapped back to him, and they gave him enough time to calm down before prying for an answer as to his sudden bipolar behaviour.

"I was kidding, you guys! I got this down in Texas a year ago when I went on vacation. I just like the damn thing!"

"You're a fuckin' idiot," Chris said, although he didn't mean it… too much.

"Never have I seen you guys shut up so quickly!" Shaking his head, Joseph continued to chuckle while Forest and Chris resisted the urge to push him back down the hill.

"Some of us have actually lost parents, you know," Forest said, face incredibly serious, making Joseph stop laughing in an instant. The two of them stared at each other for a time with Chris trying to get away from Forest's death glare, before he suddenly burst out laughing, head tossed back in what was his best impersonation of Joseph's earlier laugh.

Shaking his head, Joseph smiled and let Forest laugh it out as he tried to wring out more water from his shirt. "Okay, okay, I guess I deserved that."

"God, dead family jokes are the best," Forest said, leaning back on the grass, his elbows propping him up as he looked up at the canopy.

Coughing softly, Chris ducked his head down between his legs and pretended to be deeply interested in the grass, mind wandering all over the current situation. He was a little offended, but knew he had no grounds to be as such, seeing as how he never really informed everyone about his family life. In fact, Barry and Wesker were the only ones who really knew anything about his parents passing, and although he wished they didn't know, it was nice to have a little support.

Chris didn't rightly know why he was so closed off when it came to talking about his parents. It wasn't like it was something to be ashamed of or anything, and it had happened long enough ago that Chris had, in a way, become numb to the loss. But he hated the sympathy…

Whenever someone found out that he had lost his parents at a relatively young age, there was always the same scenario that would play out. The concerned look in the eyes, the furrowing off the eyebrows, the gentle hand applied to the shoulder and inevitable 'I'm sorry for your loss', followed up by a 'Do you want to talk about it?'.

Chris _hated_ it. Of course he didn't want to talk about- it wasn't like they could do anything about it even if he did. They were gone, they had been gone for a long time, and Chris had moved on. No need to talk about something that was long since passed.

And so he kept it bottled up; never talking to anyone about it. They didn't need to know, and Chris preferred it that way. It was always best to keep his mouth shut and his intimate life out of the fray.

"Hey, you okay?"

Looking up from where he was staring, Chris nodded at Joseph and stretched his legs out, his knees popping after being bent for so long. Deciding to lie back on the grass, Chris let the sun soak into him, the heat drying him off quickly. "I'm good, just getting a little sleepy."

"Yeah, I'm ready for a nap," Forest agreed, lying down beside Chris. Joseph soon followed, and the three of them looked up at the canopy, squinting as rays of sun broke through and casted them in a warm light. "I'm still worried about where everyone else is, though… It's too quiet."

"I'm sure they went back and are relaxing at the picnic area. Probably figured we lost anyways, what with all of us falling in the stream at some point in time," Chris mumbled, already feeling the gentle caress of sleep.

Humming in agreement, Forest and Joseph seemed to be dozing off as well, the lull of sleep too much to resist as they enjoyed the afternoon.

Chris was almost fully asleep and was so caught up with thinking about what Wesker would look like naked and lying in a bed of flowers under the sun that he didn't even realize there was a large shadow over him, blocking the rays of the sun until it was too late.

Opening his eyes with a start, Chris only had time to comprehend the fact that water was coming down before he was splashed with a large amount of cold water. Jumping in shock as the water hit his skin, Chris almost got an elbow to the face as he rolled over and away from the cold, just as Forest shot up, all limbs and screaming as the water found purchase on him.

"What the fuck?" Chris managed to get out, rubbing his hand over his face before he sat up and looked over his shoulder to see Jill, Richard, and Brad standing triumphantly on the path, an empty cooler between them.

"Thought we would let you guys get away with just a fall in the stream?" Brad asked, laughing as Joseph stood up, his bandana once again wet and wrinkled.

"Why us?" Joseph asked, pointing to himself and Chris with a shocked look on his face. Getting up finally, Chris nodded in agreement, the cold water giving him goose bumps.

"You had made peace with the traitor," Jill explained, a satisfied smile on her face as she soaked in the appearance of a bedraggled Forest. "Sorry that we used cold water, though…"

Ringing out his shirt once more, Forest eyed Jill before venturing forth, a hand raised as a sign of peace. "You got me, Valentine, you really did… Peace?"

Taking the offered hand, Jill shook it with vigour and winked at Forest. "Peace…"

"Aw, it warms my heart to see you two making peace," Richard said, clutching his hand to his chest, eyelids fluttering.

Snapping his attention to Richard, Forest's eyes narrowed as he looked at his so-called partner. Trudging forward, he grabbed his arm and got him into a headlock, arm tightening as the two struggled together.

"You damn bastard- leaving me behind in the stream while you went off to join the enemy!" Forest yelled, humour in his voice as the two wrestled around on the path, inching closer and closer the edge of the small hill.

"I didn't mean to! I went- ouch- I went off to – let go of me- get the cooler full of water. They found me and we went together," Richard tried to explain, his airway getting choked off as they hit the edge of the hill. A second passed in which Chris thought that they were going to clue into the fact that they were going to fall down into the stream _again, _but that train of thought left as soon as it had come, and Chris had the pleasure of seeing the two men tumble down the slope, a tangle of limbs until they reached the bottom, bodies splashing into the water.

It didn't appear to slow them down too much, though, and they continued to wrestle in the water while the rest of them looked on, eyebrows raised as they wrestled like little kids.

"Boys…" Jill said, shaking her head and sighing slightly.

"I know what-" Chris began before he was pushed forward, body tipping before he rolled down the hill, laughter following him down, followed closely by Brad and Joseph as they all careened towards the water.

Stopping himself before he hit the stream again, Chris prayed that Brad and Joseph would stop too, but had no such luck and was pitched into the stream. After getting over the shock of cold water on his skin yet _again_, Chris managed to stand up in the middle of the water to glare up at Jill, her body doubled over as she laughed.

Oh, she would _pay_…

* * *

**XX**

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"What are you reading?"

Standing outside Wesker's bedroom, Chris leaned against the doorframe and inspected Wesker. He was lying on his bed, back propped up against a few pillows with his shirt open at the top, giving Chris a nice view of his broad chest. A large book was resting in his hands, and Chris could see the worn cracks in the spine, making him believe Wesker had read this book numerous times over.

"The Count of Monte Cristo," he said, eyes glancing up from the pages to look Chris over, before they returned to the words before him. "How was your day?"

"Great… Really great," Chris began as he headed over to the bed. Climbing on top of the sheets, Chris lay down beside Wesker and played with the hem of his shirt while his other hand went to prop his chin up. "We all had great food, interesting conversations, an intense water gun fight, all followed up by a random photo shoot."

"A photo shoot?" Wesker asked, an eyebrow raised as he turned the page, fingers staying pressed between the papers for a time.

"Yeah, I brought a disposable camera." Rolling over, Chris got the camera out of his back pocket and tossed it on Wesker's lap. When Wesker didn't so much as lift a finger to look at it, Chris rolled his eyes and sat up to go and straddle him. Taking the book from his hands, Chris placed it gently on the night table before running his hands over Wesker's chest.

"I have one photo left, just so you know…" Smiling, Chris went to unbutton Wesker's shirt further, wanting to run his hands along that smooth chest he loved so much. "I thought maybe we could take a picture together… You know, just for fun."

Letting Chris undo his shirt all the way, Wesker finally picked up the camera and inspected it, delicate fingers fiddling with the cardboard case. "I do not enjoy having my picture taken, Chris."

"So? It's not like a regular picture or anything. It's just a fun picture between two men who happen to straddle each other and slowly undress each other." Shrugging, Chris finally got Wesker's shirt fully open, and pushed the garment off as much as he could before running the palms of his hands over him.

"Maybe," Wesker mumbled, going to put the camera down beside the book. Snatching Chris' hands in his own, Wesker brought them up to his lips and kissed his knuckles before moving forward. Grasping the back of Chris' neck in one hand, his other went to run along the hem of Chris' tank-top before he moved in to nuzzle Chris' neck.

"You smell like the sun, dear heart…" he mumbled, his breath sliding deliciously against Chris' neck. Holding back a moan, Chris tilted his head a little and rested his hands on his shoulders.

"What does that mean? I didn't think the sun had a smell." He honestly didn't care if the sun had a smell or not. But if it did to Wesker and it meant he'd get ravished, then he was okay with it all.

There was nothing like coming back to your lover after an amazing, relaxing, fun-filled day.

"You smell… sweet… like a flower," he explained, biting Chris' ear gently. "And your skin is warm… hot, almost."

Groaning softly, Chris titled his head to the side while he gently massaged Wesker's shoulders, the feeling of broad hands trailing up his back making him quiver. "It's probably just the smell of sweat and the great outdoors."

He could feel a soft gush of air against his neck, before Wesker lifted his head, grey eyes holding a tenderness Chris rarely ever saw. "It doesn't matter what it is… What matters is that you're gorgeous today…"

Blushing, Chris broke eye contact and went to take his own shirt off, throwing it across the room in his haste to do _something_. "Don't say shit like that. Makes me feel like a woman…"

Chris actually liked what Wesker had said, but be damned if he was going to admit it. He still had a little masculinity left, thank you very much.

"As you wish…" Wesker mumbled, his hands going to run along Chris' stomach, sliding over his abs in a slow, meticulous fashion. Wesker's hands felt cool over his skin, and Chris found himself shaking slightly, goose bumps rising against flesh. "Cold?"

Locking eyes with Wesker, Chris could see a familiar smirk on his lips, and decided to swipe it off his face with a kiss. Grasping the side of Wesker's face in his hands, Chris kissed him deeply, tongue sweeping in to run along the weak spots Chris knew Wesker had.

Letting him take control of the kiss for a time, Wesker's hands continued to run along Chris' heated chest, fingers dipping and gliding all over. Finally taking back control of the kiss, Wesker slid his tongue into Chris' mouth with a little more passion behind it, tongue probing and sliding before they broke apart, breathing becoming an issue.

Soon Chris found himself being pushed off of Wesker's waist, and went with the motion until he was lying on his back with Wesker poised above him. Smiling, Chris stretched out under him, admiring his view as Wesker took his shirt off. Chris didn't figure he'd actually be getting sex given what they had done in the morning, but clearly Wesker was in a good mood, and clearly they were both terribly horny.

"Today was a good day…" Chris murmured, just as Wesker moved down to run his lips gently against Chris'- not quite a kiss, but more of a caress. "I'm really happy…"

"Happy because of your day?" Wesker asked, his lips continuing to glide across his skin in tender, feather-soft kisses.

"Happy because of today… because of where I am in life… because of my job… and because I'm with you." Gasping when Wesker sucked on the skin of his collarbone, Chris couldn't help but let out a pleased hum, his eyes closing as Wesker moved lower.

Chris was just… happy. It was a simple word, one that a small child would use to describe the simplest of things- like when they received a new crayon; got to play tag during the lunch hour; met a new person. In all those cases, they would be happy.

Chris could have used numerous different terms to describe how he was feeling, his vocabulary much more robust and creative than a young child's… and yet happiness and the term that came with it was exactly how Chris felt right now.

Everything was beginning to make sense for him, and for once he was entirely pleased with everything that was going on. He had a solid job, he had friends and a somewhat supportive family, and he had Wesker… a man who Chris had found himself slowly falling for.

Feeling Wesker's gentle caresses and kisses begin their ascent back up, Chris looked down just in time to see Wesker go to kiss a nipple, tongue dipping out to lick and suck until it was hard, causing Chris to groan, the image alone entirely erotic.

Wesker was so… seductive in bed. He was like a predator the way he would slide up Chris' body, his hips swaying as his eyes locked with Chris' with a burning intensity behind them, a sight that made Chris know he was the prey and that Wesker would never let him get away. He loved how silent Wesker was- how every move he made was so calculated and sure, to the point that Chris sometimes wondered if it was even possible that Wesker was human.

But occasionally he would slip up, and Chris would revel in such slips. The occasional groan here, a loud moan there, and the occasional gasp coupled with a strong grip on his hips. All of these slips- these little mistakes on Wesker's part, let Chris know he was having an effect on Wesker, an effect that they could _both_ feel.

"I'm glad that you're happy, dear heart…" Wesker said, his voice a little lower as the heat between them began to no doubt have an effect on his sexual appetite. He was smiling ever so slightly as he came up, and Chris moved forward to kiss him slowly, a hand wrapping around his neck as they ground slowly against each other, their pants getting in the way of any real touching.

But as they kissed, Chris had a brilliant idea, and subtly shifted so he could reach the camera that held goofy photos of him and his fellow STARS mates. Positioning the camera as best he could while kissing Wesker, Chris broke the kiss for a moment and smiled up at Wesker before catching his top lip in a soft kiss, a smile accompanying it as he snapped the photo.

A second passed in which Wesker seemed to pause, before he broke the kiss and eyed the camera that Chris was still holding out beside them. For a second Chris thought Wesker was going to throw a hissy fit like he occasionally did, but instead found Wesker sitting up to take Chris' shorts off, hands working quickly.

"That was very sneaky of you, Christopher…" Wesker said, glancing up at Chris as he began to untie his shorts. "I didn't even feel you shift."

"You were too caught up in the fact that you had your tongue down my throat. It's perfectly understandable," Chris said, lifting his butt to let Wesker take his shorts off in one fluid motion, leaving him bare.

Spreading Chris' legs, Wesker began to massage his thighs, hands gliding all across his skin. Opening his legs further for Wesker, Chris watched as his hands danced across his skin, a look of relaxation on his features. Another thing Chris rarely saw, but cherished every time he did.

"Are you just going to touch me like this all day, or are you going to pay attention to other parts?" Chris finally asked, wiggling a little to drag Wesker's attention to his growing arousal. Smirking in triumph as Wesker's hand found his balls, Chris slid his hand down to join Wesker's- their fingers touching as Wesker began to fondle him gently.

"You want to do this together, do you?" Wesker said, an eyebrow raised as the two of them touched and caressed, fingers brushing together as they slid up to touch Chris' cock.

Biting his bottom lip, Chris nodded and watched the contrast between the two of them, a small groan passing through his lips as Wesker's free hand began to slowly undo his belt before pulling his zipper down, revealing his cock straining against his underpants. Eager to see him, Chris pushed Wesker's hand away so he could get to work on getting his pants off. Busying himself with his own dick, Chris began to masturbate in front of Wesker while Wesker quickly undressed himself all the way.

Once they were both naked, Chris moved to sit up slightly, hand still working his own erection as he watched Wesker begin to touch himself as well, the two of them admiring each other as they did so.

"Y-you want to touch each other, or should w-we keep at this?" Chris asked as he slid the pad of his thumb against the head. God, Wesker was so sexy…

"Show me how you pleasure yourself." It was almost a demand, and almost a request. Either way, Chris was more than happy to oblige, and began to work himself with one hand while the other went down to cup his balls, letting them jump against the palm of his hand.

With Wesker's eyes on him, Chris was even more adventurous than usual, and found his hand straying down to his entrance, just as Wesker's hand slowed down, his fingers going to run under his foreskin and across the slit. A second passed in which the two of them just stared at each other, their movements stilling for a second before Wesker pushed forward, his dick sliding against Chris' just as Chris sat up further, desperate to kiss Wesker.

"I want you in me," Chris said as soon as they had broken apart, their bodies still rocking against each other. Sliding his hips upwards, Chris made it so Wesker's dick was lower, the head sliding against his sac before it came to his ass.

Licking his fingers, Wesker didn't even bother with proper lube and slid a finger into Chris with little resistance, the two of them experienced with each other's bodies enough to know when extreme preparation was needed, how much time you should spend, and when it was okay to just ram inside.

Relaxing himself as much as possible, Chris rocked on his finger, desperate for more but enjoying the sight of Wesker's throbbing member so close to his entrance. It took about another minute of simple preparation on Wesker's part before he was inside Chris, flesh pressed against flesh as the two of them adjusted to the overwhelming feeling of being together.

"Are you ready?" Wesker asked, his head ducked down, seemingly enamoured with how he was inside Chris. Chris always loved to see the contrast between them, and no more so was it noticeable between them than when they coupled.

"Y-yeah, go ahead," Chris panted out, his body already screaming for release. Fuck, he was horny, and Wesker's sweat-slicked skin, messy hair, and heavy breathing weren't making it easy to hold off on blowing a load right then and there.

Feeling Wesker slide out, he seemed to wait for forever before he slammed back in, his pace quickly picking up speed as the two of them moved together in an age old dance.

Bringing Wesker down for a kiss, Chris held him close as they rocked together, their coupling becoming more and more frantic, bodies and nerves completely frayed. With the feeling of Wesker's hot breath against his cheek and powerful thrusts against him and inside him, Chris was almost there… Just a few more thrusts and-

The sudden sound of Wesker's phone ringing snapped Chris out of his impending orgasm, the mood suddenly ruined as the loud ring ripped through the thick air. Wesker stalled his motion for a moment, and Chris thought he was seriously going to get up to answer it before he continued to fuck Chris, his rhythm coming back to him.

"Y-you gonna let it ring?" Chris panted out, arching into Wesker's touch as his hand slid across his side.

"Yes," Wesker said.

"G-good," Chris replied, relieved that he wasn't going to leave him hanging like this.

Soon the ringing stopped, and Chris went back to concentrating on the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and the throaty groans and moans he was letting out, coupled with Wesker's growls.

Again, Chris found himself nearing completion before a buzzing was heard on his right side, and he looked over to see Wesker's pager buzzing on the night stand, the green screen flashing a number and a three digit code. Whoever was calling him obviously wanted his attention.

"W-what does 670 mean?" Chris managed to get out as Wesker's thrusts became deeper and harder.

But suddenly, the movement stopped, and Wesker stayed poised above Chris, muscles shaking as he stared at the pager. Finally moving, Wesker laid down on top of Chris and reached out to grab the pager, eyes narrowing as he read the screen.

Chris didn't have time to read the emotion that ran across Wesker's face in that instant, but the next thing he knew, Wesker was pulling out, his erection quickly losing its hardness. Chris figured it wasn't healthy what he was doing, and grasped his arm in a tight hold.

"What's going on?" he asked, desperate to know why the fuck Wesker had stopped. He was still fucking hard and didn't see himself getting completion anytime soon if Wesker's erratic behaviour continued. First he was gentle, then he was horny and rough, and now he was… off.

Something was different all of a sudden, and as Wesker turned to look at Chris, a heavy, uneasy feeling crept into his gut.

"I have to make a phone call," Wesker said, pulling his arm away from Chris' grasp. Getting off of the bed, Wesker moved to put on a pair of pants, his erection almost catching on the zipper. Trudging out of the bedroom, Chris watched him go into the office before slamming the door closed, cutting Chris off.

Sitting on the bed, Chris tried to shake the feeling of 'wrong', his body also losing whatever arousal he had left. Wesker's eyes were… different when he had turned to look at him. Something had happened and Chris… Chris was… scared?

Getting up off of the bed, Chris willed his erection to go down completely and threw his swim trunks back on, the fabric rubbing against him in an obscene way. Going to the office, Chris didn't know if he should knock, leave Wesker to his devices, or walk right in.

The bad feeling he had made him open the door unannounced, curiosity getting the better of him. Opening the door carefully, Chris caught the tail end of the conversation with the image of Wesker hunched over his desk, hand holding onto the phone with a death grip.

"And you're positive it's a leak?... Yes, yes, of course I bloody well understand. Yes, I'll be there soon." Hanging up the phone, Wesker turned around and eyed Chris, no surprise in his posture as he glared at Chris.

"What was that about?" Chris asked, just as Wesker stood up and made his way to the door.

"There is a possible E. coli contamination at a local meat packing plant- they suspect some of it was leaked into the food system," Wesker began, pushing past Chris as he headed to the bedroom. "Irons has asked me to go and check it out… Bloody fool can't handle it himself."

The way Wesker was acting made Chris wonder if he was telling the truth, but decided not to ask for details. After all, Wesker had never given him any reason to doubt him, and he sounded so sure of what he was saying.

But despite Wesker's explanation, Chris still felt uneasy- like there was something stuck in his side and he couldn't get it out. Watching Wesker get dressed, Chris stood silently, not knowing what to do with the new, unwelcome feelings overcoming him.

"Did you want me to come?" Chris asked as soon as Wesker had dressed completely. Grabbing his sunglasses, Wesker put them on and pushed past Chris once again, the smell of cologne and sex invading his senses.

"No… Don't wait up for me tonight, either," Wesker said, his voice almost void of all emotion. Going to the front door, Wesker put his shoes on and tried to fix his hair as much as possible before he grabbed his keys and tactical vest that had been resting near the door.

Moving forward, Chris went to kiss Wesker quickly, hoping to ease the unexplainably tense situation. But Wesker's kiss was a little forced, lips unusually tight as they parted. Fixing a fallen strand of hair, Chris tried to smile and kissed Wesker again before letting him leave.

"Have fun…" Chris mumbled, a comment that was completely ignored as Wesker left the apartment and headed towards his destination.

Watching him go to the elevators, Chris waited until he was out of sight before going to close the apartment door, the soft click of the lock far too loud. Going to sit on the black couch facing the park outside, Chris rested his elbows on his thighs and stared out towards the park, the sun setting. Without realizing it, Chris lost the previous happiness he had been so high on mere moments ago for the last time.

Because everything had changed, without anyone realizing it.

* * *

_Oh boy- I bet you all know what that leak was, right? I told you zombies were going to come soon! Anyways, I just had to ruin the good mood, didn't I? Fun day at the park, sexy time with his boyfriend (twice)! Chris was having a very good day and then BAM! Wesker's other job had to get in the way in a very bad way. But you know that 69 scene I made ref. to? Yeah well... it's been written. That's right, I wrote Chris and Wesker 69-ing each other but I didn't include it! Why? Too long- the chapter would have dragged on far too much. But I was thinking of posting it separately if you guys asked for it! But thanks for the reviews/favourites/watches/support! I ruv all of you so so so much!_


	31. Lies

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
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_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note: **The support you guys have been showing me is INSANE and I love you all for it! You're what keeps me going (even when I'm having troubles writing scenes... like right now, in fact) and I can't really put into words how much your support and your enjoyment of this story means to me! But enough of the gushy stuff! I recently posted that 69 scene you were wondering about, and it's called **'Good Morning' so go read it!** If you want to, that is!_  
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**Chapter 31- Lies**

_"I'm not upset that you lied to me, I'm upset that from now on I can't believe you." ~Friedrich Nietzsche~_

_Have you ever had that feeling in your chest- a pressure that refused to let up? An intense tightness that was there when you woke up and there when you went to bed, a squeezing in your chest that told you something was wrong; something was happening and you didn't know what it was, and you knew the feeling would go away if you could just fix it? _

_But you didn't know what it was… And you never ever really figure out what it was that was bothering you until it was too late?_

_I've been having that a lot… _

_He's changing. He's… not the same- hasn't been the same since he got that call last month. I feel like if I could figure it out- if I could find out what was wrong with him- then that pressure would go away. I'd feel as if I could stop thinking about him all the time._

_He's stopped inviting me over. We haven't… well, we haven't had sex in a week, which is odd considering we… well, we were all over each other for a while. And he hasn't been eating. Well, of course he's been eating otherwise he'd be dead, but he's not eating properly. Almost as if he's too busy to eat, which is strange, because we've got the same mission load that we've had for the past eight months and he had always managed to keep himself together. _

_I've asked him a few times… Why he's being so snippy with people, including myself. Of course he doesn't say anything… He never says anything. Nothing that will give me insight into him, that is… _

_I just wish he would- _

"Chris, what are you doing?"

Slamming his hands over his 'diary', Chris looked up from his musings to see Mindy standing on the opposite side of the railing surrounding the café patio he was sitting at. She was smiling brightly, her hands clutching a small purse as she looked at Chris, curiosity in her eyes as she glanced from him to his hands.

"Nothing… nothing, I was just writing," he said, closing the book before stuffing it in his bag. "Claire gave me a journal. She said I should write down my feelings for some reason."

Nodding, Mindy rested her hip against the black metal and continued to look down at Chris, sitting all alone at his table for two. "Ah, a journal. How many pages have you filled?"

"Not a lot… I just started a little while ago."

Chris hadn't started writing for the longest time, even though Claire had given him the journal before he left to move to Racoon City. He didn't really want to write anything down, especially anything about his feelings. He had never really been one for words or writing, and thought that if he wrote something down he'd simply be creating something someone could use against him in the future if they ever found it.

But the last few weeks had been… tiring, and Chris found himself reaching for the little green book in hopes that if he wrote his thoughts and feelings down, maybe they'd go away in real life.

It wasn't working.

"Ah, I see…" Nodding, Mindy pursed her lips and waited for Chris to elaborate, but continued when he clearly would have rather just sat there in his own world. "So what have you been writing about?"

"Mindy, that's kind of private," Chris said, frowning.

"I know, just thought if I asked maybe you'd open up about what's been bothering you so much lately." When Chris gave her a surprised look, she continued. "Listen, you've been really moody lately. Whenever I see you at work you're always walking with your head down and eyes downcast, as if you don't want to talk to anyone and your thoughts are all that matter. You even missed a wave I sent you a few days ago, and you _never_ miss a wave from me."

Rolling his eyes, Chris shrugged and glanced up at Mindy before returning his gaze to his coffee. "If I tell you, will you stop bothering me?"

"Promise," she said before she hopped the fence and grabbed the chair across from Chris. "Now spill."

Getting over the fact that Mindy had just hopped the fence in a skirt, Chris sat back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose before dropping his hands down on his lap. "It's about Wesker… of course."

"Of course." Nodding in agreement, Mindy put on a serious face before smiling gently. "What about him?"

"He's been… different lately. Like… not himself. I mean, I thought maybe he was just upset about something, but it's been going on for so long. He got a call a while ago, and he said it wasn't anything to worry myself over, but ever since he got that call he's been weird. I mean, he doesn't invite me over anymore so I have to basically force him to make time for me… And he looks tired all the time, as if he's working two jobs or something.

"And he just has no time for anyone. He acts the same around people in public- that aloof, calm, calculating persona he puts on… But I've seen him in different environments and I see past what he's doing. I just wish he'd talk, you know? But he never would… He doesn't trust anyone, not even me."

Finishing off with a heavy sigh, Chris ran a hand over his face before looking up at the clear blue sky. "I feel a little lost, to be honest."

"You really care about him, don't you?" Mindy asked, reaching across the table to grab Chris' hand.

He hadn't meant to grow so committed to Wesker. He knew going into a relationship with him would mean no attachments; that by agreeing to sleep with Wesker they would never bond in a way that he wanted. There was supposed to be no connection there apart from a physical one.

But Chris, being the idiot that he was, had really begun to care for Wesker. So much so that he was sitting here, moping because he couldn't do anything to help him, even when he wasn't sure if there was anything wrong in the first place.

If only that persistent chest pressure would give up…

"Yeah… I do. I care about him a lot…" Squeezing Mindy's hand gently, Chris sent her a half-hearted smile before taking his hand back. "I don't _love_ him… but I care about him."

"Is there anything I can do to help? You look even a little sick," Mindy said, worry in her voice.

"No, I just need some sleep, I guess. I haven't been sleeping well thanks to me fucking worrying like some woman… No offence. I just wish I could do something for Wesker."

"There is something you can do for him." Chris could hear the intensity in her voice, and glanced up to see her sitting there, eyebrows furrowed together.

Raising an eyebrow, Chris gave her a weary look before replying. "What can I do?"

"Go to his place, lead him to his bedroom, and make love to each other just to forget about everything that is going on… Even if it's just for a moment… Don't let this eat you away, Chris… Just… cherish every moment now."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Standing outside Wesker's apartment, Chris stared at the numbers for some time, studying his reflection in the gold 2 and 5. He knew he should knock- make his presence known… but he just stood there, hands tightening into fists.

For some reason he felt… nervous… unsure. He had seen Wesker today for a time at work, and he had visited his apartment numerous times before… But today felt different. Like if he walked through that door something would… change. Something would never be the same.

_Go to his place. _

Taking a deep breath, Chris knocked twice before opening the door, a small creak accompanying the action. Stepping slowly into the entry, Chris looked around for signs of Wesker while closing the door. He knew he was home; after all, he had let him in when he buzzed… but where was he?

Taking his shoes off, Chris stuffed his hands in his pockets and headed down the hallway, passing the living room where Wesker had finally placed a photograph- the one he had taken the day of the call. They were in bed and Chris was kissing Wesker slowly, a soft smile playing at his lips. The most amazing thing about it was the fact that there was a subtle, barely-there smile on Wesker's features too, as the two of them kissed on his bed without a care in the world.

Wesker had asked for it when Chris showed it to him, and at first Chris thought he was going to rip it up… but clearly not.

Stopping on front of Wesker's office, Chris peeked through the slight crack to see Wesker hunched over his desk, papers scattered about the surface. He had just hung up the phone, delicate fingers sliding off of it as he placed it back in its cradle. Chris watched him for a time, noticing the tension in his shoulders and the pen in his hand that was permanently stilled when he wasn't writing.

Wesker didn't twirl it as much as he used to…

Finally stepping in, Chris smiled slightly as Wesker turned to stare at him, no outward signs of weariness except for one strand of hair coming out of its hold that he hadn't bothered to place back.

"Hey…" he said, voice sounding loud even to himself.

"Hello."

Walking further in, Chris moved down to kiss Wesker quickly, their lips brushing in a greeting that said more than their words had beforehand.

"How are you feeling?"

"The same as when you asked me this morning at work."

"So good...?"

"Yes."

Nodding, Chris let out a soft sigh before straightening up. He observed Wesker as he looked through his papers again, eyes scanning the pages even though he was sitting back- feigning interest in Chris.

He had been doing that a lot.

"Did you just come to see how I was, or did you want to discuss something?" Wesker's voice snapped Chris out of his daze, and he could hear a hint of annoyance mixed in with his usual tone.

_Lead him to his bedroom. _

Not bothering to reply, Chris reached down to take Wesker's hand in his own, calloused fingers interlocking with smooth ones, and there was an immediate shift in the air, one both of them could feel. Pulling Wesker up, Chris was met with little resistance and led him out of his office and down a short ways to the bedroom, his heart racing.

Opening the door, Chris viewed the now familiar bedroom- the walls still white, the sheets still black, and the small reading light on the side of the bed that had become his_, still _tilted slightly from when he had smacked it during sex months ago. It was the same… Everything was the same.

Then why didn't it feel the same?

Moving to the side of the bed, Chris finally let go of Wesker's hands, their fingers brushing before contact was lost. Staring down at the sheets, Chris had a feeling of déjà vu as Wesker pressed against his back, palms gliding across his stomach in a slow, steady fashion.

Closing his eyes, Chris rested his head back against Wesker's shoulder, hot breath sliding across his cheek.

"What do you want, Christopher?" Wesker asked, his voice low, carrying to Chris as slow as molasses on a summer day. The way Wesker asked it made Chris feel like Wesker was feeling the same apprehension- the same tension and foreboding that he had been experiencing.

And yet he stayed. Wesker wasn't pushing away to go to more work; wasn't shutting him out like he had for the past couple of weeks. He was in the room both physically and mentally as much as Chris was…

_Just forget about everything that is going on… Even if it's just for a moment. _

"I want you to take me away," he whispered.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

His touches were like fire, and his gaze like ice, so deep that you could drown in them. He was all over Chris- surrounding him, touching, caressing, _giving_.

They were bare- their bodies pressed together. Chris was surrounded by crumpled sheets and overturned pillows, his legs spread as Wesker pushed inside him slowly- their forms connected completely in the most intimate way possible.

The kisses were slow, unhurried in approach as the two of them danced, pulling and pushing together. It was familiar and yet new- a goodbye and a hello.

Reaching up, he grasped Wesker's arms in a tight hold, their skin contrasting like they always did… Pale, snow white skin against sun kissed bronze.

They were connected and yet apart, their mind and thoughts disjointed… but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered but _Wesker_.

_Cherish every moment now.

* * *

_

**XX**

* * *

Wesker had fallen asleep shortly after their coupling. From the few times he had spent at Wesker's place the past few weeks, Chris realized Wesker was short on sleep. He was always going out a little after the supper hour, and would return late at night, claiming he was at a meeting that lasted longer than expected, or that he was doing work at the office and had lost track of time.

Chris had taken them for face value for a time, but as the excuses became more and more frequent, he had started to have reservations about the validity of Wesker's midnight meetings.

Either way, Chris found himself lying beside Wesker on his bed, willing the worry lines between his brows to go away. Even in his god damn sleep Wesker looked stressed. He had seen a moment of peace on Wesker's features when they had sex, but it was gone as soon as it had come, and Chris was left wondering when, or if, things would look better.

Reaching out, Chris gently brushed a lock of Wesker's hair away from his eyes, being careful not to wake him. He was lying facing Chris, one hand curled under his pillow while the other lay flat between them, small, blue veins showing through his flesh. Letting out a soft sigh, he moved forward to gently kiss Wesker on the lips before sliding out of bed, finding himself far too restless to just be lying in bed.

Where Wesker's apartment once offered a reprieve from the outside world, it now felt stuffy- almost suffocating to be in for too long. Gathering his clothes from around the room, Chris dressed quietly before leaving the bedroom, giving Wesker one last glance before shutting the door as softly as he could.

Walking down the hallway, Chris stared at his feet the entire time, watching them guide him away from the safety of the bedroom and back outside to a world that Chris was beginning to lose a grip on. Wesker's troubles had become Chris', and he hated that he wasn't even allowed to know why he was so troubled…

Stopping at the door, Chris went to pull his shoes on before the phone started to ring, an obnoxious sound carrying through the thick, spring air. Dropping his shoes, Chris hurried to Wesker's office, hoping to stop the ringing before it woke Wesker up.

Pushing through the slightly ajar door, Chris grabbed the device on its third ring, bringing it to his ear.

"Hello?"

There was silence on the other end for a time, before a man's voice carried through, obviously hesitant in his approach. "Hello… Is this Albert?"

"N-no, this is… this is a friend of his. He's currently held up. Can I take a message?"

Again, there was silence for a time before Chris could hear a cough and then a reply. "Yes, if you could tell him William called."

William… Birkin?

"_How did he pass away?"_

"_A car accident- just a few years ago…"_

No, there were plenty of men named William out there- this was _not_ William Birkin. Wesker had said he was dead… he had died a long time ago. This didn't match up... Wesker had _said_.

Swallowing thickly, Chris clutched the phone a little harder, vision blurring as he stared at the numbers on the phones receiver. He didn't need to ask for a last name- he didn't need to _know_.

"William?"

He could hear a heavy sigh, and irritation was clear. "Yes, William Birkin."

Trying to hold it in, Chris bit his bottom lip and nodded, even though _William_ couldn't see it. "I'll… I'll tell him."

Hanging up the phone, Chris continued to stare at the receiver for a time.

_William… William Birkin. _

"_A car accident- just a few years ago…"_

_Birkin._

_William. _

He wasn't dead… He wasn't dead at all. There was no car accident- there was nothing.

Wesker had… he had lied.

_Again_.

Clenching his jaw tight, Chris snapped his gaze away from the phone to look at all of the papers lying on the desk, all of them looking like a meld of white and black lines. His body was shaking slightly as reality started to sink in, and he felt like something was stuck in his throat- choking him.

He had lied to him. Shut him out and refused to let him in. He had played Chris like a fool… He had wrapped him around his finger; used him and played with him, never letting him in just in case… Never giving Chris what he really wanted.

Wesker had _betrayed_ him.

Blinking a few times, Chris realized he had begun to cry, and brought a hand up to squeeze down on his eyes, trying to physically stop them from coming. He was not going to cry over this- he was not going to cry for Wesker.

Gaining his composure somewhat, Chris took a deep, shaky breath before turning around, fully intent on leaving before he was stopped by the sight of Wesker standing before him.

All he had on was a pair of black slacks, the buttons and zipper undone as he stared at Chris, eyes narrowed.

"Who was that?" he asked, shoulders tense and mouth tight.

Raising his chin, Chris clenched his jaw a few times, fighting back the urge to just break down in front of him. "William. William Birkin."

If it was a surprise to him, Wesker didn't show it. Instead, he walked forward and snatched a piece of paper off of the desk alongside a pen, before writing down William's name along with 'call'.

"Don't answer my phone again."

Wesker's voice was icy and calculating, as if he was speaking to anyone but Chris. Holding back a punch, Chris moved away from Wesker, trying to distant himself from him.

"You lied to me."

Straightening up, Wesker looked at Chris before he made move to leave; as if he wasn't even worth the explanation. Shaking his head, Chris let out a growl and grabbed one of Wesker's staplers before throwing it violently against the wall near the door, effectively stopping Wesker from leaving.

"You _lied_ to me," he repeated, voice wavering with emotion.

Staring at the new hole in the wall, Wesker cracked his neck before glaring at Chris over his shoulder. "My life was never yours to know."

It was like a slap to the face, and Chris desperately clung to the thin strand that was the only thing holding him up from a fall into the darkness below. "You don't mean that…" he began, his voice strong despite the weakness in his body.

"We had something, Wesker… We… we had something really strong. We were going to work, if only…" Looking away, Chris took in a deep breath that was shaky in its release as tears began to appear again.

"If only I had done what you wanted me to do?" Wesker asked- his voice almost devoid of any emotion at all. "If only I had become someone I wasn't to please a man who forced himself into a place he never belonged?"

Chris couldn't look at Wesker again- he couldn't spare him that second glance. In a matter of moments Wesker had gone from the beautiful, intelligent, and elegant man Chris had fallen for, and was instead replaced with the wolf at the end of the fairy tale.

"You don't mean that," Chris whispered, staring down at his hands. "You're just trying to push me away."

Chris didn't believe his ears for a moment, but looked up just in time to see Wesker was _laughing_. It was low, but cold… Oh so cold. It struck Chris in the heart like a knife, and he wanted so desperately to just _die_.

"You poor deluded fool… I never wanted to pull you close. I wanted you gone, Chris. But you were always here with me- always trying to get into my life. I entertained it for a time because I enjoyed our times together… But it would never last."

"No… no, don't you say that," Chris said, the anger returning. "We had something, Wesker. You liked to lie about it- you never wanted to admit it. But we had something and I know you felt it just as much as I did… I know you did."

"I never felt anything but lust," Wesker said, finally turning around to stare down Chris. "I wanted your body, not your mind."

Shaking his head, Chris coughed back tears as he made his way to the door. "You're the deluded one, Wesker. You care for me, I know you do."

_He has to…_

_Please just say you care…_

Wesker was silent, his eyes downcast as he looked at Chris' collarbone, almost as if he was afraid to meet Chris' gaze. But he finally looked up, head cocked to the side as he spoke. "Christopher, stop asking me for something that I will never give you. Either take what I have offered, or leave me."

And for a second Chris thought he had heard a waver in Wesker's voice at the end- a tremble as his throat constricted for just a moment. But it was wishful thinking on Chris' part- or so he thought- and he couldn't help but physically back away from Wesker.

"No… no, I want out. I… I want to leave you," he said without even realizing he had spoken it out loud.

But he was done… He couldn't handle this anymore. Wesker wasn't in it- he was never going to be in it. That connection Chris had felt was always going to be denied, and Wesker was going to deny it in the most emotionally painful ways he could think of.

He was always going to lash out in fear… He was always going to be Chris' enemy despite being the most important person to Chris. And Chris didn't have the energy anymore to keep both himself and Wesker taut.

He didn't have the strength.

"I'm done," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper before he found himself leaving the office and the apartment. Before he found himself leaving Wesker…

As soon as he was out of the apartment he found himself running down the hallway to the stairs, a chill coursing down his spine, as if the shadows in the corners were threatening to pull him under. Throwing open the door, Chris flung himself down the stairs, skipping steps and tripping a few times before he was down in the lobby.

Pushing his body against the doors, Chris shoved them open before he was outside, the air suddenly lighter, easier to breathe in. But Chris didn't take the time to stop for even a second, and continued to run down the street, his feet taking him far away as he tried to exhaust his body as much as his mind was.

The sound of his sneakers hitting the pavement and blood rushing through his system was all he heard as he continued to just _run_.

_Don'__t look back- _never_ look back._

He didn't stop running until he had reached a large, black iron gate- an entrance way to a park.

Pushing the gate aside, Chris got as far as a park bench before he collapsed beside it, knees hitting the grass closely followed by his fists. Punching the ground once, Chris let out a frustrated yell before he punched the earth again, his knuckle cracking as he did so.

Letting out a desperate sob, Chris dropped further onto the ground, his hands grabbing at the grass to pull at it weakly as his mind went blank- all thoughts too painful and raw to deal with right now.

He began to realize he didn't even have the strength to keep himself taut.

* * *

_ Yup... it happened. The 'break up'. But is this really the end for them? Haha- no, I'm not letting them off the hook that easy! There will still be a lot of development between them, don't worry! Anyways, you'll have to wait until chapter 32 to see how poor Chris fairs after this sudden realization that Wesker truly is a jerk at heart. Or is he...? And for those of you wondering- the story will NOT stop after the mansion incident. This story is going all the way to the end of RE5! So I hope you stick with me!_


	32. Morning After

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note: **Chapter 32 is upon us, and you guys helped me reach a new record with the reviews! Almost 40 reviews for the last chapter alone! You're all surprising me every single day! It's like Christmas or something! Just not with as much good food, unfortunately. Whateva, I'll take the reviews over the food any day! But seriously, you guys are fricken amazing, and I really, really appreciate the support you're giving me! I love you all!_  
_

* * *

**Chapter 32- Morning After**

_"We learn geology the morning after the earthquake"__ ~Ralf Waldo Emerson~_**  
**

There are things out there that give a person that false sense of security—things that take someone away; lift them up from thoughts and memories far too painful and real to deal with. They were comforting in their own way...

When Chris finally pulled himself up off the grass at the park, he left his Jeep outside Wesker's apartment and found himself wandering over to Mindy's. Her apartment was far too long to walk to, but Chris didn't care.

Nothing really mattered at that point, nothing but getting to a place where he could just lay his head down for a while and not be alone with his thoughts.

No thinking—no reality checks. Just a place to rest.

When he finally arrived at her apartment, all of the light from the sun was gone, and his feet were sore, blisters even appearing on his heels. He would say the pain was a good distraction from what he had been feeling before, but that would be a lie.

She let him in when he arrived without question, seeing the red around his eyes and the weariness in his stance. She simply sat him down on her couch and went into her small, quaint kitchen to make him something soothing. She had said something about hot chocolate with those little mini marshmallows.

This left Chris alone in her living room with her small, pendulum-powered clock ticking away on the bookshelf across from him. Staring at his hands, Chris listened to the clock and closed his eyes, breathing steadily as he tried to push away the anger, fear, betrayal and sadness, and instead concentrate on the positives.

He still had all of his limbs, he wasn't dying, and Mindy was making hot chocolate... He would be okay if he kept thinking about the positives and not the mind-numbing reality that he had lost Wesker.

That he had lost someone who he hoped to be with for a very, very long time.

Turning his gaze to the clock across from him, Chris watched the pendulum swing and listened to the clicks and whizzes of the gears. A reminder that everything goes on, that time doesn't stop just because you feel it has.

"Here you go."

Snapping his gaze to the right, Chris saw Mindy holding a mug out to him, her smile reassuring as he took the cup from her. The mug was blue with little cows on it...

Sitting down beside him, Mindy curled up and rested against the armrest of her couch, her attention going to the clock just as Chris' did. The two of them stared at it for some time, their minds elsewhere but their attention completely on it.

Chris didn't want to talk, didn't want to say anything about what had happened in fear he'd say or do something stupid. It wasn't time to talk about it yet—it wasn't time to face reality.

Only he found himself opening his mouth after fifteen minutes of just _staring_, Mindy doing the same as she became Chris' anchor.

"I had... I had given him my everything," he began, voice soft as the hot chocolate cooled. "I had... given him my body... my trust... I had completely changed my perceptions not only about my sexuality, but my entire being.

"I had done so much to make it work—to overcome everything so that we could be happy... we could be more than just physical. I wanted it so badly, Mindy... I wanted it so god damn much."

He finally turned to look at her, his voice strong despite how weak he felt. "But I never once stopped to think if he wanted it, never stopped to think if what I was doing was what he wanted... n-never thought that he'd always just view me as some guy he could fuck.

"I wanted so badly to be with him, even when I knew it was wrong... that it was a bad idea. I gave him everything and was willing to look past so much that he did. Willing to look past the reality to see only what I wanted to see. I refused to realize that he would never give me any of himself because he didn't _want_ to give it."

Sighing, Chris sent Mindy a sad, crooked smile. "I just wanted us to be happy..."

He could see the line between her eyebrows and the tightening of her lips as she reached out, her small hand touching his shoulder gently. "Oh, Chris, I am so sor—"

"No, don't say that," Chris said, pushing her hand away. "I just— I'm sick of hearing that all the time. I don't... I don't want your sympathy, Mindy."

Taking her hand back, Mindy nodded, breathing hitching slightly as she looked at Chris with concerned eyes. She was just trying to help, and Chris had lashed out. Now he felt terrible.

"I didn't mean to push you away," he said, placing the mug on the coffee table, the marshmallows already dissolved in the drink that hadn't even been touched. "I'm just... I just want to sleep. I'll be less of a jerk in the morning."

Sleep was the greatest escape.

"Can I crash on your couch tonight?"

"Yeah, for sure." Nodding her head, Mindy stood up and went to the small hallway in her tiny apartment. Coming back in, she had a pillow and a soft pink blanket in her hands.

"Sorry, pink is all I have," she said, passing them to Chris.

"It's okay, it won't threaten my masculinity if no one else knows," he said, attempting a joke despite there being little to no mirth in his voice.

Putting the pillow at one end of the couch, Chris tossed the blanket messily across it before turning to look at Mindy, seeing the worry on her features still. Maybe coming to her place had been a bad idea—a selfish idea. Telling another person his troubles wasn't like him; he always felt worse after venting because now they, too, had to deal with his worries.

"I'm sorry I came here. I just didn't want to be alone," he said just as Mindy pulled him into a hug, her smaller frame holding onto him tightly.

"Don't apologise. Just sleep and wake up tomorrow when the sun is back up. You'll have your new day soon enough," she said, pulling away to kiss his cheek.

Nodding, Chris sat back down on the couch as Mindy retired to her bedroom, the small light on the side table still on, emitting a soft, golden glow. Fiddling with the pink blanket, Chris took a few steady breaths and prepared himself for the long, arduous journey from alertness to sleep—a journey that left time for free thinking and no escape from one's own thoughts.

Not ready to do that just yet, Chris found himself returning his attention to the clock.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

In the morning Mindy had offered to drive Chris back to his Jeep before they went to work. She had known the distance Chris traveled to visit her, and knew he probably wasn't eager to repeat it. Besides, he had work to go to, and being late would only further complicate an already volatile situation with Wesker.

But when he arrived at his Jeep, he wasn't particularly thrilled to see a slip of paper resting underneath the windshield wiper. Striding towards it, Chris kept his back to Wesker's apartment and ripped the paper off, scanning the parking ticket.

Seventy-five dollar fine for having his car parked an hour over the allotted time, thanks to a Constable Rick McDonald. Chris was tempted to find the bastard and shove the ticket down his throat, but opted going to work and straight to his office would be a better idea.

Shoving the ticket in his pocket, Chris unlocked his Jeep and hopped in before starting the vehicle and driving away from a place he never wanted to be at again, to a place he usually enjoyed going to every morning—except for today, of course.

Chris had contemplated the downfalls of dating a co-worker when he had been with Wesker, but he had always tossed the negative views aside in favour of the positives. But now that he had to actually deal with the negatives, Chris was beginning to wish he'd thought his relationship through a little more carefully.

Of course, there were a lot of things turning up in Chris' mind that made him wish he had thought things through more carefully with Wesker—many of them running along the lines of 'why hadn't I just said no?'.

Chris didn't know how to describe how he was feeling at the moment. Mindy had asked him in the morning; in fact, it was the first thing out of her mouth, but Chris had told her the truth: he didn't know.

He had exhausted himself yesterday with 'what if' and 'why' questions all night, and had spent all of his anger, sadness, and frustrations out in one night.

This morning he was simply left feeling... numb.

And nervous.

He didn't want to see Wesker so soon, not after what they had just said and done. He had ended things with him; officially stopped their relationship as soon as he came to the realization that Wesker was never going to be in it. Usually when such a confrontation happened he would just walk away from the person all together, sever the ties they had in one swift go in order to ease the heartache and loneliness. He didn't want to be reminded of Wesker so soon.

Too bad Wesker was his boss and someone he saw almost every single day, even before they had been involved. Chris figured this was one of the reasons why people always said not to date a co-worker.

Chris spent the entire drive to the RPD with the radio blasting mindless pop hits as he tried to clear his mind and forget about what had happened yesterday. He was going to work—a professional environment where he was expected, not only from other people but by himself, to act in a civilized manner. He was expected to do his job and not let personal issues get in the way.

So that was what he was going to do. He would go into work, do his job, talk to people he needed to speak to (even if that included Wesker), and then go home and have another break down.

Or possibly go to the gym where he would try and destroy a punching bag.

Parking in his usual spot, Chris turned his car off and took a few steadying breaths before jumping out and continuing forward with his plan 'Act Normal and Everything Will be Normal'. Returning smiles and morning greetings on his way to the office, Chris felt that uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach start to go away as he easily slipped back into the role of dependable, reliable, and grounded Chris Redfield.

Not scared, angry, and hurt Chris Redfield, which was what he had been feeling like for the last twelve hours.

Finally getting to the office, Chris wrapped his hand around the familiar handle and took another steadying breath before opening the door quickly, striding in, and closing it. Giving himself another moment to turn around, Chris relaxed his grip on the handle and went to his desk.

As soon as he had sat down, he took the time to look up and notice that no one else was in the office. Wondering briefly if he was late, Chris looked at the clock above Brad's desk, only to discover he was a minute late—if that. Furrowing his brow, Chris scooted his chair closer to his desk and opened up a report he had started on Friday but hadn't finished. Scanning through what he had completed, Chris rested his chin on the palm of his hand, sighing heavily as the sound of the clock once again accompanied him into thoughts of nothing.

Eyes glazing over, Chris continued to flip sheets despite not really reading any of them. Stopping on the final one, Chris read the last paragraph before the door to the office opened. Looking up quickly, Chris blinked away sleep in his eyes only to see the one person he really, really didn't want to.

Wesker appeared the same as he always did as he strode into the office. He had his dress shirt on, his hair was slicked back, and the usual collection of folders rested under his arm. But perhaps the most familiar thing about Wesker was how much comfort he still brought Chris, despite everything that had happened.

Clenching his jaw, Chris watched Wesker go to his desk before sitting down, booting up his computer. Flipping open a file, Wesker began to scan through it, acting as if there was no tension or unspoken words between the two of them.

"Where is everyone else?" Chris asked, finally breaking the silence.

Raising an eyebrow, Wesker looked up from his papers before scanning the room, as if this was the first time he realized no one except Chris was actually in the room. "I believe Jill and Brad are at court right now, having been dragged into a complicated case. Barry is... well, I do not know exactly where he has gone."

Nodding, Chris tried not to act surprised about Jill and Brad's court date. He was probably informed of it numerous times and in great detail, but having spent the last few weeks thinking of nothing but Wesker left Chris a little out of the loop.

Of course he'd refuse to admit it.

Not wanting to look at Wesker anymore, Chris went back to his paperwork, this time actually paying attention to what he was reading. He wanted to distance himself from Wesker despite them being in the same room together, and decided that throwing himself head first into his work was the best idea.

Minutes passed in the office, nothing being said between the two men as they both worked on whatever it was they had to do. Chris had almost finished up with his side of the report when he heard Wesker pause his typing, and glanced up just as Wesker turned to look at him.

There was silence between the two for a second before Wesker spoke, completely at ease by the sound of his voice. "Christopher, are you working on the—"

"It's Chris," he found himself saying without even realizing it. Taking a deep breath, Chris raised his head slightly. "Don't... don't call me Christopher again."

Rolling with the punch, Wesker didn't even seem fazed by what Chris had told him, and nodded. "Fine—Chris, are you working on the Martin report?"

"Y-yeah, why?"

Chris should have been thankful it was that easy to get Wesker to call him by the name he preferred, that he didn't have to go into detail about why he preferred Chris and why he had let him call him Christopher for so long. But for some reason, the fact that he was just so willing to concede, that he didn't even seem fazed at all, angered Chris more than anything.

Was Wesker not feeling any of the tension and anxiety he was feeling? Did their relationship really mean that little to him?

"She withdrew her charges—do you know why?"

"Yeah, she said it wasn't worth the money for a lawyer and—" Chris was about to elaborate before the phone on Wesker's desk began to ring, and he answered it without even recognizing Chris in the process.

Rolling his eyes, Chris went back to his work, but found it increasingly difficult to stay on task when Wesker's end of the conversation was getting more and more... bizarre.

"... Eaten? Are you sure? They haven't collected dental records, have they? No, of course not... Yes... Just an hour ago? Why hadn't you—no, never mind. I'll get my men there as—... No, no I am going. No, don't get involved just yet, we'll deal with it."

Slamming his phone down, Wesker stood up and trudged off to the Bravo team office, telling Chris to page Barry about meeting them at the Marble River embankment just in the Old district of Racoon. Raising an eyebrow, Chris did as he was told, and finished just as Enrico and Wesker were leaving the office and coming back into Alpha team's.

"Chris, you're coming too," Enrico said as Wesker grabbed a few things from his desk. Standing up, Chris nodded and followed them out of the office, completely confused.

"Anyone going to tell me what is going on?" he asked as they entered the room with the three statues.

Chris could see a slight downturn on the corner of Wesker's lips, and a familiar edge crept into his voice as he answered. "A body was found by a jogger on the banks of the Marble River."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

When they arrived at the scene of the crime, the area was taped off with the forensic unit already hard at work while police officers stood around, keeping the area clear of rubberneckers and the news crew.

The grass was still covered in dew, and clung to their boots and pant legs as they trudged over to the scene, all three of them feeling more tense than usual. Chris had been on a few missions where he had to see a dead body, but they had all been relatively 'clean'. No huge wounds, no gaping holes... no bite marks.

From what Wesker had said, it sounded like the body that was found had been... eaten.

"There you are, where have you been all morning?"

Hearing Wesker's voice call out snapped Chris from his trepidation, and he looked up just in time to see Barry walking over, civilian clothing still on.

"I had to take Penny to her doctor appointment, I told you that," he said, frowning.

Stopping when he got to Barry, Wesker raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. "When was this?"

"Last night. I called you up to tell you I had to take her in. She was sick all weekend and Kathy was getting worried..."

Humming slightly, Wesker eyed Barry a moment longer before he took off, obviously offset by something about Barry's message. Chris liked to believe he'd been too wrapped up in their argument and subsequent breakup to remember Barry calling, even though he knew that was probably untrue.

But he would cling to that idea just to make himself feel better about the entire ordeal. If Wesker was upset, then he could feel a little better... Odd how things like that worked.

"How is Penny?" Chris asked as they began to walk down to the embankment, ducking under the police only tape.

"She's fine—strep throat is all. Nothing rest and some antibiotics can't cure."

Relieved that Penny was okay, Chris for a moment forgot what they were going to see, until they walked up to the body.

She was lying face up on the river bank, head still partly in the water. Long hair caked with mud and blood floated in the water, sliding back and forth over her ear... or where her ear should have been. Instead, there was a gaping hole, the entire ear gone with skin and flesh from her cheek taken with it. Her eyes had long since been eaten out by... something. Maybe whatever attacked her, or possibly fish in the river.

Her nose was bitten off as well, and her lips were long since gone, revealing straight teeth that once held a large smile. Now it just looked morbid and horrid, her entire face peeled back for all to see.

The rest of her body faired no better, and if he hadn't been informed earlier that it was a woman, Chris wouldn't have known the gender. The animal that had eaten her before had done a good job at destroying her body, and the fish and other animals in the river had finished the job.

"I... I mean—" Chris stuttered out, not sure what to say. He had never seen anything like it, and he felt bile begin to rise. Pushing it back, Chris took a few steadying breaths, moving his head away to get fresh air. Despite being outside, the stench was overwhelming.

Both Barry and Enrico seemed to be reacting the same way Chris was at the sight; disgust, horror, and slight... curiosity. Of course Wesker seemed completely at ease with the sight, bending down to examine it carefully.

Chris watched Wesker inspect the body, pushing past the disgust from the body and the anger from the night before to simply admire his boss for the critical and analytical skills he seemed to possess. Chris wished he had some of Wesker's intuition and simple deduction skills—things would be so much easier.

"A jogger found her around six this morning."

Snapping his attention up and away from the body, Chris watched as a forensic personal approached them, clipboard in hand. "We can tell more once we get the body back to the station, but it appears as if she was killed with a bite to the neck—probably bled out as she was... well, eaten."

"I assume her identity is unknown?" Wesker said, standing up to face the man.

"With a mutilation such as this and no ID on her, it's going to take a while. Luckily, we can probably do some dental analysis," he said, shaking his head with a frown as he gazed at the body. "All we do know is that she was probably hiking in the mountains."

"How do you know that?" Barry asked, shifting his stance ever so slightly so he was turned away from the body.

"Her shoe... She's got a hiking boot on," Chris mumbled, pointing to her foot that was still encased in a brown, beat up boot.

"What could have possibly attacked her in the mountains around here?" Enrico asked out loud, eyes narrowed as they all looked up the river towards Racoon forest, the trees thick but still allowing light in. Chris had taken a few trips through the forest since he had moved to the city, and to the best of his knowledge the most dangerous thing out there were coyotes.

"We don't know just yet. We're still trying to identify the initial cause of death," the man said, shrugging before he wandered off with his clipboard just as some more men came over to take the body away.

Moving away from the body, Wesker indicated they should follow, and they all trudged back up the bank to stand near the ambulance.

"Wait here," Wesker instructed, not even really looking at the three of them as he wandered off, gate sure as he strode towards two men off to the side who appeared out of uniform.

"Detectives," Enrico said as Chris inspected them. "Surprised you haven't seen them before..."

"I'm not usually called to murder cases," Chris said, voice distant as he watched the three men speak.

Snorting slightly, Enrico ran a hand over his moustache before speaking again, voice lower. "Well if things continue to go how they've been going, you'll see it more often now."

"What?" Chris asked, finding Enrico's tone a little off.

"Nothing," he said, wandering off to speak with one of the police officers who was having difficulty with a camera man.

Turning his attention to Barry, Chris rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. "What the hell is up with everyone lately?"

"He's worried," Barry said, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he and Chris decided to look as useless as they felt at the moment.

"Worried about the murder? I don't know, it just happened and he's been... off, lately."

"Not about the body—well, not just about the body," he began as he shuffled closer to Chris. "He's worried about his job. Figures either you or I will take over Bravo Team from him."

Raising an eyebrow, Chris turned to look at Barry. This was certainly a new development. "How do you know this?"

"I might have overheard him talking on the phone to someone the other day. I walked in to talk to Richard and he was hunched over his desk, talking about how Wesker was making comments about how you in particular were showing great strides in leadership... Sounds like Wesker's lighting the fire under Enrico."

"Why would he do that?" Chris asked, knowing Enrico was doing a good job—or so he thought.

Shrugging, Barry let out a heavy sigh. "Why not ask Captain Wesker yourself?"

"I... I don't think that's a good idea," Chris mumbled, suddenly feeling very awkward. A couple of hours ago Chris would have approached Wesker for answers as soon as he could, but given the feeling of intense anger mixed with absolute sadness whenever he saw Wesker now, Chris figured he'd just pass.

"He's been acting more... unusual, hasn't he? Damn, this town is making people crazy," Barry said quickly as Wesker came back to them.

"I just spoke with the investigators who are dealing with the case. As of now, they do not believe this is a murder, so don't throw that word around carelessly. They've taken the witness to the police station where they'll interview her."

"So what do we do?" Chris asked, meeting Wesker's gaze despite the intense urge to break it.

"For now we do nothing," he finally said before making his way to Enrico, who was talking to the camera man in a very polite, but threatening manner.

Chris found it strange that Wesker had even bothered to come down and then tell them they shouldn't do anything. He knew cases such as these weren't really part of what STARS was supposed to cover, but for some reason Chris wanted to get involved. Not only so he could figure out who killed the poor woman, but because something about it felt strange—like there was more to it than an animal attack.

"Why did we come down here if we aren't going to be involved?" Barry asked Wesker as they ducked under the police tape and started to leave. Wesker had managed to get the camera man to go away after he just approached him—even people who didn't work at the RPD knew how terrifying Wesker could be.

"I found the case... strange. I wanted to see it for myself," he replied simply, taking the keys out of his pocket to the cruiser.

"Is that really the—" Chris began, only to have Wesker turn around, eyebrows drawn in.

"Don't ask any more questions, Christo—... Chris."

Standing his ground, Chris glared back at Wesker before Barry stepped in, his heavy hand landing on Chris' shoulder. "I drove my car here, so I'll take Chris back with me to the station. See you guys soon."

Dragging him away, Barry pushed Chris to the passenger side of his car and opened the door before going to his side. Getting into the car, Chris put his seatbelt on, jaw tight.

Wesker was such a stupid, fucking control freak who Chris should be glad to get rid of.

Should, but wasn't.

"Who does Wesker think he is? I mean, I know he's our boss, but he can't just go around yelling at us and taking us on these trips he won't even explain!" Chris began, his temper getting the better of him.

"Chris—"

"I mean, he did this once before. I wasn't supposed to talk about it, but fuck it. Back in January he—"

"Chris, just—"

"—called Jill and me up and took us on this fucked up mission. And he's just all 'relish in the ignorance I bestow upon you' bullshit. Like I give a damn if I'm too informed—"

"Chris!"

Barry finally raised his voice, and Chris stopped his rant to finally pay attention to him. Eyeing Chris for a moment, Barry seemed to wait and see if he would begin again, before he spoke, eyes downcast.

"Did it look like those bite marks were human?"

* * *

_BRAAAAAINS! Allll riiiight, we got zombies on the scene now! ZOMBIES! I don't know about you, but I'm pretty damn excited for the zombies. I'm coming up on my ONE YEAR anniversary for this story (I began writing it November 11th- Remembrance Day for my fellow Common Wealth people) and only now have we come to zombies! Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
_


	33. Luck

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note: **Hey guys, just as a heads up, this will be the last chapter for a little while. I know I said I would update every 10 days, but University and such is swamping me with school work, as well as my beta. So while the chapters are done (up to chapter 40, actually) it takes a while for corrections and editing. So I'm going to update the story next time a little later. It will not be too late (not a month or anything) but it might be about 2 weeks until another update appears in your inbox! Please respect the fact that both my Beta and I are busy, and don't get all antsy when I don't update in 10 days! And once again, thank you for your support! I really, really appreciate it! _  
_

* * *

**Chapter 33- Luck**

_ Luck is what happens when preparation meets opportunity. ~Seneca~ _**  
**

There were three new bodies.

They hadn't all shown up on the same day, nor were they clumped together. But they all had the same story to go along with them.

Found in or just outside the forest at Raccoon, mutilated beyond recognition, and bite marks riddling the body. Victims were apparently eaten.

The story that had been told time and time again by the police was that it was wild dogs—vicious pack animals in the forest around the city that had rabies and little to no restraint. It would make sense if you were simply hearing about the case through a second-hand source. After all, no human would ever think of cannibalising someone—would they?

It made perfect sense. Just stay out of the woods until animal control can go in to capture and then euthanize the animals before they infected any other creatures... or kill anyone else. Soon, the deaths, though horrific in nature, would be out of the papers, the fear out of the hearts of Racoon citizens, and the headaches gone for all of those who worked on the case.

Perfect sense.

Of course, it wouldn't make perfect sense if you had seen the bodies, noticed the claw marks that looked like finger nails, and seen the decidedly human bite marks riddling the body of the hiker.

"This is bullshit."

"What is?" Jill asked, looking up from her pop-tart to stare at Chris from across the break room table.

Tossing the newspaper down on the table, Chris sent Jill a frustrated look as his arms crossed over his chest. "The fucking murder cases, that's what! Another body showed up last night, Jill! Another person is dead because the fucking RPD thinks that it's not a top priority case. They think they've figured it all out, when clearly something else is going on."

Snapping her pop-tart in half, Jill fiddled with a corner as she listened to Chris, an eyebrow slowly raising. When he had finished, she had crumbled up the corner completely, leaving her fingers coated in sweet pastry.

"Chris—since when did we deal with high profile deaths like that? We're a SWAT team, not investigators," she said, although there was clearly some vexation coursing through her words. She was feeling the tension as well.

Ever since the first body had popped up, the RPD had begun to feel... strange. The atmosphere was no longer friendly and open, with conversations carrying through the hallways and friendly waves passed out like candy. Instead, there was a divide occurring between all of the different units—including STARS. It was almost uncommon to speak to someone who you didn't technically work with. There were hushed whispers in the hallways, icy looks and awkward shifting in the break room, and tension that was felt by everyone.

Chris didn't know why everything had changed, but there was a definite shift in the air—a strong sense of foreboding coursing through the city.

Things had gotten even worse when allegations of illegal taxidermy against the Chief came about, just around the same time the city was having its own legal battle with the zoo and illegal flower distribution. Just as the city needed a leader, someone to guide the people, everything had begun to collapse, leaving the cracks in the walls apparent.

"I'm just getting sick and tired of sitting on our hands while more people die and the city starts to tear itself apart," Chris said, his jaw clenching. He'd been holding his stress in his jaw, and actually had to go to the dentist the other day to get it checked out. He was told to stop it, but it wasn't working out too well.

With the stress of the dead bodies, the lack of real information, and of course Wesker's dick attitude, Chris had begun to wonder if he was going crazy. He wasn't getting any sleep at night, and was spending most of the time tossing and turning, trying to calm himself down. It wasn't like he could do anything at the moment.

As soon as they got back to the office after the first body appeared, Wesker pulled them from the case just as soon as he had brought them in. He gave little explanation, but made it very clear they were not to get themselves involved. It was up for the investigators and those involved with the forensic unit to deal with—not STARS.

But Chris was getting more and more frustrated with the job that the murder investigators were doing. Now, not only was Wesker lying to him, but his damn job was too. There was something more—much more—to the case than what first appeared, and Chris was determined to find the truth.

He was sick of just taking it for face value—sick of trusting other people without wondering why or asking how.

"I... I know how you feel, Chris. But we need to back off for now. I want to know what's going on just as much as you do, but we can't do anything reckless."

"Why? Why can't we do something extreme? People need to know that this isn't a simple 'dog has rabies and decides to go bat shit insane' case," he growled out, feeling the urge to rip up the newspaper ever increasing. If only he didn't have to clean it up after...

"Chris, if we go out there and start demanding things that aren't ours to demand, not only are we going to look like nut jobs, but we could also lose our jobs. And then where would that put us? Even further from working on the case, that's where. No, we should sit back, try and stay sane, and work on what we've been assigned to."

Frowning, Chris sent Jill a look before fiddling with his newspaper. What she said made a lot of sense, but it did little to ease the knotted feeling in his gut. "I just wish we could get in there and see the case files, at least—read what the coroner had to say and maybe—"

Chris immediately stopped talking when two regular cops walked into the room, empty coffee mugs in their hands. Staring at them, Chris watched as they sent him an icy look before getting their coffee. The two sat down awkwardly at a table near the soda machine, the discomfort getting to the better of all four of them.

Staring at her hands, Jill coughed softly before standing up, Chris following suit. "Let's get back to work."

Nodding, Chris sent the two cops one last look before following Jill out of the room. Chris spent the walk down to the STARS office trying to shake off the unease he was feeling. Every time he walked down the hallways now, he felt like there was someone watching him—like he wasn't even safe to talk about anything too personal in fear he was being recorded.

The RPD had become a place he didn't want to be at anymore.

"I think we should go out for dinner soon. You, Barry, Brad, and I. Relax a little and just talk about other things," Jill began as they headed up a flight of stairs. Passing the ladies' washroom, Chris saw the door open and stopped as Mindy came out, her mascara running.

"Mindy, are you all right?" he asked, moving towards her. Stopping a short distance away, Jill seemed to reach out for Chris before he waved her to go on without him. Shrugging, Jill gave Mindy a shaky smile before she headed off.

"I'm fine, Chris," Mindy said as soon as Jill had turned the corner. Wrapping her arms around herself, Mindy smiled slightly, although it looked pained.

Reaching out to cup her cheek, Chris frowned and brushed a tear away. "You're crying, Mindy... and they don't look like happy tears."

Moving herself away from Chris' touch, Mindy went to stare at the door, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "Can we... go to the roof? I need a smoke."

Nodding, Chris gently wrapped an arm around her shoulder and headed up to the roof with her. While Mindy had always been Chris' rock during his many trials and tribulations, their roles had been reversed as of late. She was probably feeling the tension more than anyone else at the station, and had been bearing the brunt of the accusations against Irons the most.

As soon as they had reached the roof, Mindy trudged by the men working on the helicopter and sat down on a small bench near the railing. Taking his packet out of his vest pocket, Chris passed a smoke to Mindy and lit it for her before sitting beside her.

"What's up?" he asked, resting forward slightly.

Savouring the cigarette, Mindy closed her eyes before opening them, the smoke curling up from her mouth and nose slowly. "Irons... He's been getting... strange."

"Like... how so?"

"He's been locking himself in his office as of late. Like, literally locking the door and not letting anyone else in. The few times I've been able to get inside he's got one light on, and he's just hunched over his desk doing _nothing_.

"I asked today... if he was okay, and he just started screaming at me. Yelling and throwing a fit—half of what he was saying didn't make any sense to me. I'm just..."

Trailing off, Mindy shook her head and ran a hand through her long blonde locks, fingers getting stuck in a few small knots. Tugging them loose, Mindy chewed her bottom lip before taking another drag.

"I'm scared, Chris. I'm... I mean... I don't know what's going on. I feel like everything is falling apart."

Reaching for her shoulder, Chris squeezed it gently as she moved to rest against him. "Is there anything I can do?"

Chris hated the situation he and everyone else had been put in. Secrets, mistrust, and fear—all of these had become common day occurrences for the people of Racoon. He wanted to stop it. He wanted to get involved with the case and go into the forest to actually investigate—stop the murders and the lies, and really protect the citizens of Racoon City.

He just wanted to help.

"There is nothing you can do, Chris... Just... just being here for me is enough," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Are you worried about... you know, if Irons will do anything?" he asked after a time, Mindy's words finally settling. If she was afraid of Irons now, there must be a good reason for it.

Pulling away to look at him, Mindy shook her head eventually. "N-no, I don't think he'll hurt me. I'm just worried about... No, never mind."

Well now she had to tell him.

"Mindy, what's going on?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. Mindy stood up quickly to leave and snuffed out her smoke, only half finished.

"It's nothing, Chris. J-just promise me... Promise me you won't do anything too rash. I can handle myself—I'm a big girl. Like I said, just... be there if I need it."

Nodding, Chris was about to say something; protest and tell her she needed to tell him what was going on so he could help. He was a cop for god's sake, and he felt as useless as a kitten. But Mindy interrupted him and, like she had a habit of doing, stopped Chris from saying exactly what he was thinking.

"Chris, I know you want to be proactive about this, but we have to take it one day at a time. I'm sure you'll also figure out a way to help the people of Raccoon. Who knows, maybe you'll get a lucky break."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Chris walked home later that evening after leaving his Jeep at the station in order to clear his mind. He was always too busy concentrating on the road to give himself time to just... _think_. Kicking a pebble across the sidewalk, Chris stuffed his hands in his pockets and gathered his thoughts about the 'wild dog' cases, as they had been referred to. He wasn't about to give up on getting more information—not when people's lives were in danger because of some cover-up.

No, he had a duty to protect the people, and he was going to see it through. If only he could get ahold of some case files, or maybe convince Irons to put STARS on the case. Or maybe...

Stopping at a familiar corner, Chris looked across the street to see a small brick building wedged between two taller, but equally old buildings. The door was black with a shiny silver handle, and the windows were tinted, letting some light in but preventing gawkers from looking inside to stare at people.

Or maybe _Wesker_ was the way.

It was the lounge Wesker took Chris to as a thank you for helping him when he was shot.

It was the lounge that had led him to his first kiss with Wesker, and eventually to one of the messiest, angriest, most lust-filled, and all together most amazing relationships he had ever been in.

No matter how fucking pissed off Chris was... he still missed Wesker. Still missed seeing him in the mornings—still missed venting his frustrations out with mind-blowing sex... Still missed his scent, his habits... his occasional smiles.

Taking a deep breath, Chris closed his eyes and let the emotions pass before he did anything else. Thinking about Wesker like that was meaningless. They were over... it was done.

Even though it pained Chris to think that—to even admit it, in fact—he knew it was for the best; that Wesker was bad for him. But that didn't stop him from still wanting him.

Taking another calm breath, Chris suddenly found himself in need of a drink. Crossing the street against the light, Chris hurried across to the lounge and opened the door. Closing it quickly, Chris cut off the outside light in the building in order to keep the dark atmosphere going, and found himself standing in the doorway for a time, his eyes blinking as he tried to adjust to the lack of bright light.

The place was relatively empty, save for a few business partners sharing a drink before they went home for the evening, giving Chris that needed peace and quiet. Shaking off the feeling like he was out of place (he always felt like that in here), Chris strode forward to claim a seat at the bar, its appearance the same as when he first visited. Only this time the bartender was a man, and the bottles against the back wall were fuller than they had been before.

New shipment must have arrived.

Sitting down near the end, Chris ordered whatever was on tap, and wrapped his calloused hands around the glass. Staring into the white froth that had appeared at the top, Chris watched the tiny bubbles pop and form for some time while he decided that maybe thinking was a bad idea.

Maybe he should just... stare.

Getting lost in the absolute hypnotic spell beer can put someone in, Chris didn't even notice another man sit down at the bar a few seats away, before a familiar voice snapped him out of his daze.

"The usual, please."

Raising his head quickly, Chris immediately glared as he saw Wesker sitting a little ways away, delicate hands perched upon the counter as he watched the bar tender fix his drink. Passing the rich, amber liquid over to him, the bartender waved Wesker's money away and went back to doing whatever bartenders did during their slow time.

Chris noticed with some relief that Wesker hadn't appeared to see him just yet, and thanked the shadows for concealing his general appearance. Taking the opportunity to watch Wesker, Chris finally took a sip of his beer just as Wesker went to savour his scotch.

To the casual observer he would have looked the same—a poised, elegant, slightly narcissistic man enjoying his scotch after a long day at work. But Chris saw everything. He saw the tightness in the corner of his mouth, the clenching and unclenching of his jaw, and the weariness in his shoulders, as if three men were perched upon him.

Wesker would never admit it, and Chris would never say it out loud, but he looked like he could use a nap—a nap that lasted a few months, at least.

Not really knowing what to do, Chris continued to sit in the shadows, his beer forgotten as he tried not to move in fear Wesker would notice him. He really didn't want to talk—

"Stop staring at me, Chris."

Feeling a burst of adrenaline shoot through his system, Chris' first instinct was to get up and leave; avoid the confrontation all together. The two of them hadn't really talked on a personal level since their split. It was always about work when they did speak and always incredibly rushed, as if they were both feeling the strain. He wanted to leave and not deal with the opportunity to speak to him privately, but his pride kept him from doing so, and he simply took another sip of his beer before speaking.

"I didn't think you had the time to come here anymore," he said, the beer going down slowly, soothing the sudden dryness in his mouth.

"I'm waiting for someone."

"William _Birkin_?"

Or maybe a new... fling? Quashing such notions as soon as they came, Chris kept his hand tight around his glass, grounding himself.

"It is none of your concern, Christopher." He sounded bored as he swirled the scotch around in the glass, releasing more of the strong aroma. But as soon as he had said Christopher, there was a slight pause in his movements, as if he knew he had slipped up.

"D-don't call me—"

"I know, I apologise for any mental scarring you receive each time I say your full name," Wesker said, and Chris _knew_ he was rolling his eyes behind his shades.

Rolling his eyes as well, Chris took another sip of his beer, this time taking in more in order to pause the conversation—if you could even call it that. Putting the glass back down, Chris coughed the bitter taste away before speaking up again without really realizing he was saying anything until it was too late.

"Have you been given access to the cases involved with the wild dogs?"

Turning his attention away from his glass, Wesker's hair caught what little light there was, and Chris followed the strand of light as it crossed the top of his head. "Do you mean the case that STARS is not involved in?"

Bringing his gaze back to Wesker's face, Chris nodded slowly. "Yeah, that one."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not involved, Chris... Now drop it."

If he could just convince Wesker that this needed further investigating, maybe he'd be able to pull some strings and get them the case files. After all, Wesker had always been someone who needed to know everything that was going on, and to be left in the dark on such an important case must really, truly bother him. If Chris could just tap into that feeling...

"You're not just the least bit curious to know what's going on?" Chris asked, moving to sit a chair width away from him. "I mean, haven't you felt the changes at the RPD?"

"Not really," Wesker said, an eyebrow raising as Chris moved to sit closer. "I concern myself with my team, no one else."

"Not even Irons?" Chris knew that Wesker regularly visited Irons, detailing missions and cases to him... or something. Chris actually didn't know what Wesker talked to him about, but he was positive Wesker would notice Irons' radical change in behaviour.

"I haven't noticed much, no... He seems high-strung, but that is understandable given his taxidermy allegations."

Chris didn't even see an indication in his body language that would indicate Wesker being at all fazed by the questions. He was simply savouring his scotch, and if it was at all possible, he actually seemed a fraction more... relaxed.

"In any case, Chris, I would suggest you quiet down about the 'wild dog' situation. No need to stir up trouble where there is none," Wesker said, his attention going briefly to Chris before his gaze returned to his drink.

If Chris didn't know any better, he would say that sounded like a threat. Biting back anything too rash, Chris simply took a deep breath before returning to look at his half empty beer glass. Where once he had felt at ease sitting casually next to Wesker, he now felt stifled, like everything was too close and the walls would close in on him.

Realizing he wasn't going to get through to Wesker about getting access to the files, Chris made move to leave before Wesker spoke again.

"How are you?"

His voice was soft, and Chris swore there was the barest hint of concern mixed in with his usual indifference. Caught off guard by the simple question, Chris took a moment to convince himself Wesker had actually asked the question before answering.

"Do you want the long answer or the short answer?" he asked.

"Either one—I have time."

Taking a second to decide on whether or not he wanted to open up to Wesker—again—Chris finally sighed before answering. "I'm okay."

And just like that, Chris had once again closed the door on their relationship, preventing Wesker from trying to get back in. He didn't know why Wesker was asking, or if he really cared, but Chris would not go down that road again... No matter how much he wanted to just tell Wesker that, no, he wasn't okay. In fact, he was stressed out of his mind. He hadn't been sleeping well, he wasn't eating properly, and god damn, he missed him.

He missed him so much.

But all he said was "okay", because in the long run it was easier that way.

"That is good to hear. I need my men in tip-top shape," Wesker said before finishing his scotch. Standing up, Wesker tossed some bills on the counter despite the bartender's protest, and moved to leave.

"What about your meeting?" Chris found himself asking, turning a little to watch Wesker pause. Putting his hand on the back of the chair, Wesker turned a little to look at Chris.

"I was lying. I had hoped you wouldn't speak to me if you knew I was waiting for someone."

Dick.

"Thanks, that was nice of you," Chris said, sarcasm dripping off every syllable.

"I knew you were going to talk to me about the case, and I would have rather avoided the topic. I also knew you would be displeased with my answer," Wesker began before he moved a little closer. "Although, if you wanted to talk so badly, perhaps we could return to my apartment..."

Again, Chris was caught off guard. Looking away, he went to stare at his beer glass, body shaking a little. It would be so easy to say yes; give into temptation and this time let himself be used. He knew Wesker wanted some stress relief and not to get back together—and for a second, Chris was okay with that.

It would be so easy...

"I think I'll pass," Chris said, voice strong despite the weakness in his body. A moment passed in which nothing was said, before Wesker retracted his hand from the back of the bar stool.

"Very well. I will see you on Monday... And don't get yourself involved in matters that do not concern you," Wesker said before leaving, his presence fading quickly, allowing Chris to let out a breath of air he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

Chugging the rest of his beer, Chris stayed at the bar for some time, not wanting to move.

Fuck Wesker... Now he needed a cold shower.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"I was thinking of going to Australia for a vacation," Brad said, sitting back against Barry's couch, a handful of chips in his hand.

"Australia? Why?" Jill asked, tearing her attention away from the infomercial on the television detailing how spending only four easy payments of $39.99 for a fake diamond ring was a good deal. Jill didn't seem particularly convinced.

Shrugging, Brad popped a chip in his mouth and chewed it before speaking. "It's warm, it's got beaches, and I've always wanted to see a Koala in its natural habitat."

"It also has millions of poisonous spiders and snakes, not to mention you can get lost in the desert and die. Oh, and jellyfish—can't forget jellyfish," Chris mumbled from his corner on the couch, eyes glazed over as Barry turned to the news, a report about the fish population in the river airing.

"Oh... Maybe not, then," Brad mumbled, going a little pale.

The four of them had finally decided that getting together to just hang out was a good idea, and although they didn't go out for dinner like Jill had previously suggested, they had all decided to go over to Barry's to watch the baseball game that was airing.

The only issue with that, though, was no one really _liked_ baseball.

Barry was more of a golf man, while Jill and Brad both liked soccer. Chris was always partial to football.

And so they spent most of the evening flipping through the channels, eating assorted snacks, all while chatting about anything and everything that didn't involve work. Chris thought it was nice just to get away from everything and hang out with his friends, even if he was fidgeting like crazy. Every second that he wasn't out there being his usual proactive self about the case and Mindy's situation was almost like torture.

But the conversation and the support he had around him kept him there, sitting on Barry's couch as Barry had begun to discuss the finer points of his gun.

Again.

"Barry, do you sleep with your gun under your pillow?" Jill asked, an eyebrow raised.

Laughing softly, Chris winked at Jill before returning his attention back to the news—it must have been a really slow news day.

"Now that's just unsafe, Jill," Barry said, humour in his tone despite his serious expression.

Jill was about to reply when a flash went across the screen of the TV, followed quickly by fast-paced music and a 'Breaking News' appearing on the screen before it was replaced with the local newscaster.

"This just in—reports of four more bodies have been discovered in the Raccoon City forest. This time the victims were, as we are told, killed in their own cabin," the newscaster began, her calm voice doing little to ease the sudden apprehension in Chris.

"What's this about—" Brad began before Chris tossed his arm out, flailing it a little as he glared at Brad. Getting the hint, Brad shut up just as the newscaster handed the story over to a reporter who was at the scene, police tape blocking the way to the house as they stood in the middle of the woods, lights flashing and people trudging around in the background.

"Yes, the bodies were discovered by neighbours who lived a little ways down the road from them," the reporter began, his glasses reflecting the light of the camera as he tried to contain his excitement about being the first on the scene. "They said they had seen a group of about seven or ten people around the area the night before, but were hesitant to approach them. Later today when they had not seen the family out and about, they went over to investigate."

Suddenly the news changed to an interview that was obviously recently taken, the editing still a little choppy as the witness' voice carried through mid sentence. "—it was just terrible. We had seen the door was open and let ourselves in, and couldn't believe the sight before us! There was blood everywhere, and the bodies— the people—they... they looked like they had been eaten."

It quickly turned back to the reporter on the scene just as the interview seemed to go in a bad direction, the witness seemingly about to pass out in her ironically sunny summer dress.

"We don't know too much about what had happened so far, but it's safe to assume that these deaths, and the previous bodies found in the woods just a few days earlier, are connected. Rumours of a death cult have begun to surface, with local wiccans on the defensive. We'll get back to you with more as soon as we can. Back to you, Jen."

"Thank you, Roger. Now, with our next story, 'Kittens and the people who love them'."

Turning the volume down on the TV, everyone in the room simply stared at the playing kittens for a time, wrapped up in their own thoughts.

Four more deaths and all at the same time. And this time it clearly was not rabid dogs.

Grinding his teeth, Chris held back a snarl before shooting up from the couch just as Brad cracked a chip he'd been holding with a vice-like grip between his thumb and forefinger.

"Barry, can I use your phone?" Chris asked, already striding towards the kitchen where the phone hung.

"Sure, but who are you going to call?" he asked after Chris, getting up to follow.

Chris was done waiting around; done being the useless one when he knew he could do more—a lot more. No, this time, he was getting involved; this time, he was going to _do_ something.

"I'm getting my lucky break," he said, picking up the white receiver.

* * *

_Things are getting serious, you guys! It's the final countdown to zoooombies! Anyways, like I stated before- no new update until about 2 weeks have passed! Blasted school! But yes, once essays and such have been handed in, the regular 10 day updates will happen again! Don't worry! Thank you for reading through, and with ever chapter gone by, we get closer and closer to some flesh eating good times!_


	34. Mysteries

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note: **I'm back! I actually finished my last exam this morning, so I have a little while to sit back and breathe before school starts back up again. I think I did pretty well this term, though! Anyways, thanks for all being super supportive about the break and for respecting said need. Really, both my beta and I appreciate it! But, the next chapter is (finally) upon us! So go- read!_ Also, Happy Holidays~!  
_

* * *

**Chapter 34- Mysteries**

_The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible. ~Oscar Wilde~_**  
**

He hated having to ask her, especially after everything she said had been going on, but Mindy was their only hope of getting into the case.

When he had heard the news of the new bodies, he immediately called her up asking for a favour. He knew it was a lot to ask and he was going to try his hardest to make it up to her, but she was the only one who really had access to the files they needed.

Mindy, of course, said yes, but only after a few attempts at getting Chris to just sit back and wait to see if they were put on. She was, understandably, hesitant to steal the files from the RPD case room—after all, it was stealing from the police in a police station. But a few days after Chris had asked for the reports, she came to his office and dropped them discreetly in his top drawer while disguising her visit as a social one.

Chris was forever grateful for Mindy's willingness to help out, and was currently trying to think up ways to repay her while going over the coroner's report on the second body that was found by a group of three people, all while listening to Barry and Jill fight over the validity of death cult rumours.

"I'm just saying we shouldn't go on pure speculation—I mean, all of these rumours were started thanks to the press," Barry said as he entered the dining room from his kitchen.

When they got a hold of the files, they all went back to Barry's house and set it up as a base of operation. His was probably the safest, due to the fact that he had his own place with no nosey neighbours on either side that could listen into the conversation by simply pressing their ears against the wall.

Besides, his place had snacks.

"But I'm saying we should at least look into it—see if we can find any occult activity that surrounds killing people," Jill said, clutching her book of magics and the occult.

"Not just killing—eating as well," Chris said, reading over the bite marks found on the body. The coroner clearly stated that the bites were from a human—multiple humans, in fact. This led Chris to believe that the police were the ones preventing real information from getting out and not the coroners. This also chilled Chris to the bone.

No one was to be trusted now...

"Do you really think there are cults out there that eat people, Jill?" Brad asked as Barry sat back down and began to flip through a more recent folder, one with very little information in it. Mindy had only really been able to get information on the cases leading up to the recent house break in. Anything after that was still being worked on, and therefore a complete mystery to them.

"I don't know, but it's worth looking into it," Jill said, frowning. Putting his hands up in surrender, Barry shrugged and went back to flipping through the sheets in the folder.

Bringing his attention back to the reports as well, Chris re-read the report on the second body for the seventh time, trying to make sense of it all. The three people that found the girl had been going for a stroll through the woods, close to the city, when they noticed some red—later on they discovered it was the colour of the jacket the girl was wearing.

They approached what they thought was a collapsed woman and they came to see it was indeed a mutilated body. When they found her, she had been dead for about twelve hours, making her time of death around ten o'clock the night before.

She hadn't been too far in the woods, and it seemed as if she had only gone off the path by a few feet... as if she was trying to get a better look at something. There were scuffs in the dirt, and there had obviously been a struggle. The report noted that there was a tree root that was raised up, and chunks of bark had recently been removed... Perhaps she had tripped?

But if the murders were by the hands of people, how come there had been no arrests with so many dental impressions?

Shaking his head, Chris let out a frustrated sigh and closed the folder before passing it to Barry when he held his hand out for it. Trading it for the most recent case, Chris flipped it open and viewed the crime scene photos, pushing past any disgust. The first body was right by the door, as if they had gone to answer a knock and had been taken down quickly.

Then two others (the youngest— fifteen and seventeen) were found in their bedrooms, and the last (the mother of the family) was found in her bedroom but out of her bed, as if she had tried to fight back, to no avail.

The attackers moved quickly, but had little care for leaving things behind. It was as if they wanted to be caught, almost as if they were stuck in a mindless, vicious frenzy and all that mattered was the kill.

"Find anything?" Chris mumbled, flipping a sheet over before glancing up at Jill.

"Not really... Unless you want to know how to make a protection charm or which crystals out there are the best for healing and energy flow..."

"Where did you get that book anyways?" Barry asked, rubbing his eyes.

Flipping the page, Jill scanned it quickly before replying. "My boyfriend's sister is into this. I asked her about it, saying I was curious about the different forms of magic. I think she thinks I want to get into it or something."

Chris was honestly a little surprised to hear Jill talking about her boyfriend—last he heard she had been going through a rough patch with him... But perhaps a relationship could survive in this fucked up city of theirs.

"We need more," he finally admitted, defeat getting the better of his optimism. He had thought that by getting the files things would finally look up, that they could get something done.

But it just made all of them more curious and frustrated. The mystery was getting worse, and they didn't have all the clues to solve it. What they really needed was to be put on the case, and it didn't look likely.

"Oh! Wait, wait, I think I found something," Jill said, grinning.

Waiting patiently, they watched her scan the page further, her smile slowly fading.

"What is it?" Brad asked, closing his folder to peer at the page Jill was reading.

"I thought it was something, but it's not—just silly horror stories," she said, sighing. Taking the book from her, Brad read the page and began to laugh.

"Zombies?"

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Sitting in front of his desk, Chris pretended to be interested in a case he started yesterday, but found it increasingly difficult when the only other person in the room was Wesker, who was currently walking back and forth from his desk to the fax machine... again... and again.

The case was a simple one involving a robbery that he'd been called to; it ended with nothing stolen and a broken and beaten burglar. The woman behind the shop counter obviously didn't appreciate being robbed and managed to yank the shotgun out of the young man's hand and slam the base of it into his nose.

It was really quite impressive and Chris was tempted to recruit the woman.

But all of those thoughts were put on the back burner as Wesker, once again, stood up to go to the fax machine that he seemed to touch more than he did Chris back when they were still screwing around.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Chris asked in a monotone voice, his chin resting on his hand as he stared at Wesker.

"Faxing, what does it look like I'm doing?"

Shrugging, Chris went to fiddle with his pen. "Is something up?"

"Yes."

Perking up, Chris' gaze immediately went back to Wesker, excitement in his eyes. "Really?"

Maybe they were put on the case?

"We have a new STARS member—I'm finishing the paperwork."

"Wait, what?" Chris hadn't heard any news regarding the possible hiring of a new member—in fact, Wesker had last been talking about shifting their jobs around. There were rumours floating around that Joseph was going to join Alpha team and that Chris was going to take Enrico's position, which he still didn't understand. "How come you never told us?"

"Because it didn't matter," Wesker said simply, returning to his desk. The entire time he didn't once look at Chris.

"W-well what is their name? What are they going to do?" Chris asked, getting up to stand in front of Wesker's desk, finally bringing his gaze towards him.

"Her name is Rebecca Chambers—she'll be Bravo team's medic."

"Well, how come we don't get a medic?"

"We will in due time, Chris... Now sit back down."

Glaring at Wesker, Chris did the exact opposite and stayed standing in front of his desk. "I'm tired of this whole 'you don't need to know this so shut up' attitude you've got going on."

"And I do not enjoy you shrieking at me, so I guess we are both rather annoyed."

Going red in the face, Chris was tempted to pick up his half empty coffee cup and splash the contents on Wesker... or his keyboard. Probably his keyboard; it would make him angrier. "No, see, your attitude and your secrecy is going to fuck up things more than it did for our relationship. Soon enough people are going to get sick of it and stop following you around like little school children. Soon, they're going to start asking questions and demanding answers."

He didn't know where all of this pent up aggression was coming from, but it felt good to just _yell_.

Taking a moment to reply, Wesker lifted his fingers from his keyboard and turned to look at Chris, his eyes gazing at him from overtop his sunglasses. "Do these 'people' you're referring to mean yourself?"

"Fuck yes! Damn it, Wesker! Haven't you been paying any attention to me at all? Didn't you listen at all to why I broke up with you?"

Clenching his jaw, Wesker took a deep breath before pushing his sunglasses back up his nose. "I did listen to why you left me; I am not that much of a fool."

Chris was about to say something before pausing, his mouth open like a fish. "Not that much of a fool? So you're saying you're a fool about something?"

"Go back to your desk, Chris."

"No, I want you to elaborate on that," Chris said, hoping against hope that Wesker would actually talk to him about their relationship—maybe then he could get some closure. He thought that maybe Wesker had felt like a fool when Chris left him... Or perhaps he felt like a fool for letting him go?

They both sounded absurd, but the way he shot Chris down seemed like he was hiding something.

"I don't want to, now sit back down." Wesker was visibly getting agitated, his stance becoming stiff and the corners of his mouth tightening.

"No, tell me—"

"Sit back down, and that's an order!" Wesker suddenly barked out, lashing out in an uncharacteristically loud way.

Eyes widening, Chris simply stared at Wesker, his hands limp on either side of himself. He had never heard Wesker get so... loud and angry. Sure, he'd heard him raise his voice slightly, but this was completely new. Backing off a bit, Chris sent Wesker a nasty glare before returning to his desk slowly.

Sitting down, he fiddled with his pen again before speaking, this time lower. "You really need to open up to people more, Wesker... You're going to get sick."

"I am perfectly fine, Chris."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

The day after their fight, Wesker didn't show up to work. Again, Barry was put in charge and no questions were asked about their Captain's whereabouts. He would show up again... He always did.

Chris, of course, knew it was because of the anxiety, and he felt a little bad that he had probably been the one to trigger the attack. The last time Wesker had one, they were still together—although it was near the end of their relationship.

He had simply laid with Wesker in his bed as the chest pains receded and the breathing became easier. He had hated seeing Wesker in so much physical and mental stress, and tried to kiss away whatever worries he had had. They ended up staying in bed all day with Chris keeping Wesker from returning to his work whenever he said he felt better.

Later on, Wesker admitted Chris' company had helped with the attacks...

But now Chris wasn't going to go over and kiss him till he was better. All he was going to do was welcome the newest STARS member—Rebecca was her name, right?

"Hi, I'm Rebecca Chambers," she said, sticking her hand out for Chris to shake it. Taking her significantly smaller hand in his own, Chris shook it back.

"So, uh... how old are you?" he asked, not able to get over the fact that she looked and sounded like she was twelve.

"Eighteen—I just graduated med school," she said, giggling nervously as Jill seemed to be giving her the same look of disbelief. It was the girl's first day and they had managed to find her setting up her desk in Bravo team's room before they had to go out on any missions or complete any case work. When Wesker had said he hired a new medic, Chris didn't think he had hired a _child_.

What the fuck was he thinking?

"You just graduated? How?" Jill asked, an eyebrow raised.

"I was... well, I was gifted and I kind of flew through school and skipped a lot of grades," she said, giggling nervously again.

"Why STARS?" Chris asked, wondering if she even knew how to fire a gun.

"I wanted to help people—more so than what a regular doctor would do. I wanted to help the people of Raccoon in all areas, including crime, poverty, and medical care." She recited it like she'd been asked the question again and again. She probably had.

Making a face, Jill shrugged a little. "Well, I guess if you want to deal with the crazies in this city, you should be allowed to."

"T-thanks?" she said, sounding like she didn't know if Jill was joking or not. But they didn't have time to say anything else before Kenneth showed up.

"Hey now, don't crowd her, she just arrived," he said, giving Jill and Chris a special 'back off' look. Taking the hint, Chris nodded and turned to leave to return to his office where he should really be working on that case he'd neglected yesterday. He was going to take it home to work on, but had gotten caught up in looking over the murder case files... again.

If he could just find a clue—something he hadn't read before or noticed, maybe he could get further with what he had and really work on the cases, rather than just agonize over them for days.

"Good luck, kid," Chris said, already halfway out of the office. He knew he should be more welcoming to such a young and probably intimidated all to hell woman... But he couldn't find himself to care, what with so many other things occupying his mind. He knew it was rude, but... but she didn't _matter_ right now.

Sitting back down at his desk, Chris went to work before Barry spoke up from his spot behind his own desk, just as Jill sat down.

"The phone wires have been tapped," he said in a low but casual tone. Flipping the page on the newspaper, he acted as if he hadn't said anything.

Standing up, Jill walked over to Barry and Chris' joined desks and crouched down beside them. "Tapped?"

"Yup. Pick it up and listen to the dial tone."

Doing as Barry instructed, Chris heard the familiar drone of the dial tone, but occasionally heard a soft click every five seconds or so. Putting the receiver back down, Chris nodded at Jill, their expressions equally grim.

"What does this mean?" she asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"It means we're under suspicion. Chris, I want you to get those files back to Mindy soon, and Jill, go tell Brad about this—discreetly. He's working on the engine of the helicopter right now."

Nodding, Jill stood up and went to leave the office, a random file in her hands as if she was going to go talk to Brad about a case. Biting his bottom lip, Chris watched her leave before sitting back in his chair.

They weren't safe anywhere anymore...

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Mindy... Please, tell me what's going on."

"I... I can't. Please, Chris, just let me hang out here for a little while?"

Staring at Mindy, who was currently curled up on his couch, Chris nodded slowly and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, of course... Did you want something to eat or drink?"

"Can I have a glass of water?" she asked, looking at him quickly before turning her attention back to the TV, which was shut off.

Smiling slightly, Chris nodded again and headed to the kitchen, at a loss as to what to do. When he returned home that night she was already at his door, her small frame curled up at the bottom as she waited for him to return. Her eyes were red and her hair was a mess, as if she had run her fingers through it numerous times. She refused to tell him what was going on, other than she didn't want to be alone.

After letting her in, she immediately went to the couch and simply sat, refusing to open up or really talk about anything. It worried Chris to see her in such a condition, especially after what she had told him a week ago.

Getting her the glass of water she asked for, Chris added a few chunks of ice to it before returning to the living room. Passing it to her, he watched her take a small sip before going to sit down beside her, hands resting awkwardly on his knees.

"Mindy... Please, tell me what's going on," he said, hoping he could break through to her and get some answers as to her erratic and frightening behaviour.

Taking her time, Mindy took another sip of her water before she stared at the rim of the glass, her hair hiding some of her face. "Can we please talk about something else?"

"No," Chris said, sounding firm but supportive at the same time. "Just tell me, Mindy. I can help."

Letting out a heavy, shaky sigh, Mindy opened and closed her mouth a few times before speaking. "I... I don't feel safe around Irons anymore."

Violent images suddenly flashed into his mind, and Chris felt an urge to hunt down the man without even knowing what he had done to frighten her. "Did he hurt you, Mindy?"

"N-no, no he didn't... B-but..."

Letting her take her time, Chris sat patiently but eagerly for what she was about to say. He just wanted to help...

"I found out something that I wasn't supposed to know..." Mindy began, furrowing her eyebrows. "I... I'm afraid he'll hurt me if he knew that I knew."

"What do you know?" Chris asked, his chest getting tighter with anxiety.

"I... I found out—"

Just as Mindy was about to open up, the phone rang, making both of them jump.

"Shit," Chris mumbled, making Mindy suddenly go back into herself.

"Answer it," she said, going to stare at her water again. Nodding, Chris stood up and hurried to his phone. This had better be important.

"Chris!"

"O-oh, hey, Claire," Chris said, finding himself frowning rather than smiling like he usually did when he heard her voice.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, her voice chipper as always.

"Nothing," Chris said, going to look at Mindy in the living room to see she'd turned the TV on and was blankly watching the news.

"Uh... you sure? You sound distant and you haven't called in a month or so," she said, and Chris could hear the concern finally leaking through.

"No, things are good. Work is hectic as usual," he said, still watching Mindy carefully. "H-hey, have you heard about any murders in Raccoon?"

There was a pause on the other side before Claire spoke. "No... Why, is something the matter?"

"No, no, it's fine," Chris said, confirming his suspicions that either the news wasn't being let leaked, or people didn't figure it important enough—although which news company wouldn't want to be covering a story about cannibalism in America?

"Okay, Chris... Are you sure you're all right? I'm getting worried," she asked, and Chris found himself nodding even though she couldn't see it.

"I'm fine. Listen, I'm kind of busy. Can I call you back later?"

As much as he hated blowing Claire off, he needed to get Mindy to finish what she was saying. Not to mention he'd have plenty of time to talk to Claire later... if he remembered to call her.

"Yeah, sure, but don't wait another month, okay?"

"I won't. Love you, all right?"

"Love you too."

Hanging up the phone, Chris tried to brush past the guilt he was feeling for pretty much blowing Claire off, and instead hurried back to the living room where Mindy was now staring intently at the screen.

"Mindy, what was it you were—" he began, only to have Mindy shush him and point to the TV.

"—more and more upset citizens. With the number of victims on the rise and with nothing being done about it, people are beginning to question the service the police officers of the RPD are doing for the city itself," the reporter began as they sat behind their nightly news desk, the background a night scene of downtown Raccoon City.

The screen suddenly flashed to a legal expert sitting in their office, looking completely at ease in front of the camera. "The people of Raccoon have a right to be protected, and the police of this city have signed a contract with the citizens of the city to protect them, no matter what. But it appears as if they're doing nothing, and holding back their best team from getting involved—STARS."

"What?" Chris mumbled, sitting down on the armrest of the couch. The screen flashed back to the newscaster as they flipped the sheet of paper in front of them.

"With the mention of STARS, a sudden outcry has occurred from numerous members of city council, as well as everyday citizens, asking for the Special Tactics and Rescue Service to be put on the case and seek out the answers we've all been waiting for."

Turning the TV down when the story was over, Mindy looked up at Chris. "Looks like you might be put on that case after all."

"Maybe..." Chris said, trying to keep the hope he felt in check; no need to get too excited about something he couldn't guarantee. But if they were put on the case... finally, he could do something.

Bringing his attention back to Mindy, Chris reached out to squeeze her shoulder. "But what were you saying before?"

"O-oh? Oh, no, I just... He's having an affair and I found out," she said, taking another sip of water. "I know it's silly but some men will d-do a lot to protect such a secret."

For some reason, Chris didn't believe her.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

This was it—it was finally happening. No more stealing; no more lies; no more secrecy. The moment Chris had been waiting for for weeks was finally here.

"As of this time today, the STARS units, Alpha and Bravo team, have been put on the recent murder cases," Wesker began as he stood behind a podium, the press recording, writing, and taking photographs in front of him in the press room. Alpha team stood behind him, trying not to fidget too much as Wesker told the entire city what everyone had been waiting to hear for weeks.

"No longer shall these gruesome murders continue to haunt the people of Raccoon City. As members of STARS, we have sworn to protect and serve the people of this city, and we will see this through to the end. Tomorrow, Alpha and Bravo team will patrol the Raccoon Forest during the day in search of campers, hikers, and those living in the area. We will be asking all those who currently reside in the area to leave for the duration of the case—both for their own safety, as well as the safety of the case itself.

"After an initial sweep, the real work will be done. Night shifts will happen, regular patrols will be carried out, and STARS will use all of the resources available in order to find, apprehend, and bring those involved to justice... Thank you."

Stepping away from the podium, Wesker once again ignored the sudden influx of questions and led his team out of the room.

STARS was officially on the case.

* * *

_So if you guys know your RE time line correctly, you'll realize that it is 2 weeks until the Mansion Incident! I hope all of this stuff isn't too boring for you guys, but I really wanted to fill in the stuff that we missed when it comes to the investigations and the lead up to the mansion. So hopefully it's not too dull. But yes, Rebecca has now joined, Joseph has switched sides, and Wesker is busy having panic attacks! Yaaaaay! But thanks for reading through, and I hope it was worth the wait!_


	35. Stress

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Graphic MalexMale sex_

_**Authors Note: **_Another chapter is upon us, just as another year is fast approaching! It's about... six and a half hours until 2011 where I am right now, but I'm sure for a lot of you it's already 2011 when you read this! Woah! I hope you guys all had a wicked awesome holiday, and I hope the new year is good to you guys! My resolution this year is to finish State of Flux, but what are your guys'? Once again I want to thank you all for supporting me this entire year (SoF is almost a year old on this site) and for showing me so much kindness and generosity- you're all so amazing and I love you.

* * *

**Chapter 35- Stress**

_Stress: The confusion created when one's mind __overrides the body's basic desire to choke the living daylights out of some jerk who desperately deserves it. ~Anonymous~ _**  
**

It was silent in the woods—completely silent. The usual chatter and songs from the birds were gone, the once occasional scuttle of a squirrel ceased to be, and even the insects seemed to be absent.

It was as if the place was a grave, dead and still with undisrupted air clinging to everything, choking off that much needed feeling of _life_. Life of any kind; whether it be as significant as a doe jumping through the underbrush, or as simple as a ladybug landing on a shoulder. But there was no sign... No sign at all.

"Can you feel it?" Chris asked, walking up one of many gravel-covered trails to an old cabin that housed a young family—according to the official police and real estate papers, that was.

"Feel what?" Jill asked, reading the crumbled sheet over again, as if she needed to memorize the names of the people she was going to kick out of their home.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Chris shrugged and looked around before answering. "The lack of life... There's nothing here, Jill."

Frowning, Jill shrugged as well. "I'm not thinking about it."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm thinking about the case, Chris."

"Doesn't this complete lack of life have anything to do with the case?" Chris asked, eyes wide.

"Not at the moment it doesn't," she mumbled as they approached the door and knocked. Waiting side by side, Chris grumbled a little about how it did matter before a young woman with short red hair and numerous freckles on her nose answered.

"Yes?" she said, smiling despite the confusion on her features.

"Hi, we're from the Raccoon City police department," Jill said as the two of them flashed their badges. "I don't know if you're aware of the recent murder cases in the area, but we've been ordered to alert those living in the vicinity of the Raccoon to leave for the duration of the investigation, both for the safety of your family, but also for the safety and credibility of the investigation," she recited with ease.

"O-oh, you mean the cannibal cases?" she asked, suddenly going pale.

"Yes, those—now, if you don't have anywhere to go, the city has offered up rooms at one of the hotels free of charge where you and your family may stay for the time being," Jill said as Chris stood awkwardly beside her, trying to decide if he should look intimidating or sympathetic. Sometimes it was hard giving up his tough guy persona when on a mission.

"N-no, I think I can stay with my mother—she lives in town," she said, clutching the door handle. "Do we have to leave right away?"

"The sooner the better," Chris said, wanting to say something. "If not today, then tomorrow. Don't worry; you'll be able to come back soon enough. Just pack up a few changes of clothes and bathroom items and you should be good."

Nodding, the woman took a shaky breath before speaking. "This is very serious, isn't it?"

"It appears it's getting there," Chris said as Jill frowned. "But we're doing everything we can to solve it. Please have patience and we're sure to solve it in due time."

"Y-yes, I'm sure you will. Is that all?"

"Yes, that is it," Jill said, thanking the woman for her cooperation before turning to leave. Chris was about to follow before he paused and turned around halfway to speak to the woman again.

"Do you mind if I ask you a quick question?"

A little surprised, the woman paused closing the door before nodding.

"The animals... Have you seen them around lately?"

She took a moment to reply before she finally came to a realization of some sort, eyebrows furrowed. "You know... I haven't. When we arrived up here for the summer there was very little wildlife activity..."

"When did you arrive?" he asked, taking out his notebook from his back pocket to record what she was saying.

"Late June, just after my kids got out of school. But my neighbours down the lane had been here longer and commented on not having seen a single deer all season."

Pausing his writing, Chris looked down the lane to see the abandoned house peeking through the trees. "Those neighbours?"

"Yes, they left a little while ago... They didn't feel comfortable down here anymore."

"And you do?"

"Well... truthfully, no. But my husband rented this cabin for the summer and we came all the way from New York to enjoy it. He wanted his money's worth and the kids seem happy enough..."

Nodding, Chris finished up his notes before putting his book away. "Well, thank you. If things pan out accordingly, you shouldn't miss too much time in the cabin."

"You're welcome."

Turning around, Chris walked down the steps and caught up with Jill, who was standing at the end of the driveway, her gaze following him.

"What was that about?" she asked, moving with Chris as they continued to their next destination, the police cruiser just down the lane a little near the beginning of the strip of cabins.

"I was just asking her some questions. Most of the houses we've been to up here have been deserted and I figured we should take the opportunity to ask someone what they thought about the forest when we had the chance."

Rolling her eyes, Jill smiled a little. "You're so eager to solve this, Chris... It's nice to see."

Since they were put on the case less than two days ago, Chris had been all over the new report cases like a dirty shirt. Finally, all of the information was free to him—no more hiding, no more guessing, and no more bloody late night coffee runs at Barry's house. All he had been doing since yesterday was looking over the case files and running ideas past fellow STARS members, finally able to get new input.

Forest had a hunch it was a group of people who had a fear of the coming apocalypse that most religions claimed would happen almost every year. He figured they were killing in some sick and twisted notion that it would save them.

Enrico thought that maybe some mentally insane people had decided to go off of their meds because of the side effects, and had completely lost it. He had pulled up a case of a schizophrenic man in Canada who had had an episode and decapitated, stabbed repeatedly, and then eaten a young man sitting next to him on a bus as possible support for his idea.

Meanwhile, Brad was still joking about the zombie idea Jill had unwillingly brought up.

Chris still didn't have any ideas, and just listened to others and incorporated the possibilities of each one into the fray every time he looked at the case.

But for now, he and the rest of STARS were patrolling the forest in order to clear everyone out. He and Jill were stationed in the north and asked to visit the rental cabins and homes located in the area. The other teams of two were scattered around Raccoon's forest, going to camp grounds, parks, and other houses in order to get everyone out.

They said it was for the safety of the case mostly, but Chris suspected it was more for the safety of everyone there. Things had become dangerous in the woods now.

"I'm just trying to help," Chris said as he got into the cruiser just as Jill did. Buckling up, he started the car and drove up the narrow road, following the directions they'd been given to the next area where people lived.

"I know, I know," Jill said, staying silent for the rest of the trip to the next house. Parking the cruiser on the side of the road, they got out and wandered up to the cabin that looked like it hadn't been used for some time.

"I don't know why we're going to abandoned places," Chris said, walking slowly up the driveway as Jill paused halfway. Stopping beside her, Chris turned his gaze towards where hers was, trying to see what she was seeing.

"What is it?" he asked after a time, not seeing anything.

"I thought... It looks like a house is up there."

"So?"

"One that isn't on the map," she said, starting to make her way over in the general direction of the mysterious house. "It looks big."

Following her into the woods, Chris tried to look at what she was looking at while keeping his balance as he trudged over deadfall and shrubs. It took some time, the light from the sun and the reflections off of dust particles clouding his vision, before he was under a large tree and could see a looming house far in the distance.

"How the hell did you see that?" he asked, finding it hard to really see it even now that he had a placement on it.

"I saw some light reflect off a window," she said, staring at the house. "It looks eerie..."

"It looks dead," Chris said, noticing the dead trees around it... "It looks abandoned."

"We should get in contact with someone on the team, see if they know anything about this place," she stated, her map out as she tried to place it.

Nodding in agreement, Chris followed Jill back to the cruiser where they turned on the radio and tried to get into contact with anyone from STARS who was close enough. It just so happened to be Barry and Wesker—Chris' favourite and least favourite people in the world.

Since Wesker's outburst the other day, Chris hadn't spoken to him at all on a personal level and barely on a professional one. It was tense around him now, almost suffocating. While he tried to pretend there would be no loose endings or unsaid feelings between them before, now it was impossible to push past it all. It hurt Chris a little to see Wesker so... put together and unfazed. He'd never say it out loud, though.

Their description of the place over the radio did little to help Barry and Wesker to understand what they were talking about, and they were told to wait until they had arrived so they could see it for themselves. That wait involved half an hour of sitting in the cruiser, the air conditioning being turned on after the fifteen minute mark to keep cool. They had planned to be done by mid afternoon to get out of the hot July heat, but that obviously didn't pan out as their watches read 1 o'clock.

When Barry and Wesker finally arrived, the two of them got out and joined them at their car.

"What is this about a big house?" Barry asked, giving them both a very confused look.

"It's a mansion or something up ahead—it's not connected to any main roads and it doesn't appear on our map," Jill explained, walking with them back towards where they had seen it.

"Are you sure it's a house?" Wesker asked, falling in step beside Jill as she trudged forward, leaving Barry and Chris to follow.

"Yes, I'm positive— what else would it be?"

"A figment of your imagination? These woods can play tricks on one's mind—it's easy to get lost both physically and mentally."

Chris tried to hold back a snort as Wesker trailed off on one of his more lyrical prose moments, and instead minded where he stepped as they entered the forest again. Not even so much as a bug was crawling on the deadfall...

"Do you see it?" Jill asked as they reached the point, her finger pointing in the direction of the mansion that still seemed to be there.

Squinting, both Wesker and Barry took their time looking before Barry spoke. "Yup, it's definitely a house."

"A rather large one at that," Wesker said, voice soft as he continued to stare at it.

"Maybe we should go investigate?" Chris asked, an eyebrow raised and lips pursed out at the end.

"No," Wesker said, finally pulling his attention away—barely. "Not now, at least... Jill, may I have that map?"

Passing it over, Jill watched as Wesker took out his compass and began to mark it on the map in relation to the cabin behind them. "Go back to your cruisers, and Barry, tell everyone to check in at the office when they're done before they go for the day..." he said, distance in his voice.

"Right," Barry said, leaving the area with Jill close at hand. Chris took a moment of trying to decide if he should go with them, but found himself firmly planted beside Wesker. Watching him mark the spot, Chris tried to act casual as his throat closed up on him.

"Let's go," Wesker said, turning to make leave. Giving Wesker a shaky nod he couldn't see, Chris followed beside him, an eerie feeling creeping up his back and settling in his stomach like a dead weight. That mansion gave him the fucking creeps and he wasn't even near it.

"Why haven't we heard of such a place?" Chris asked as they approached the cabin in the clearing. "You'd think we would have, what with it being so... large."

"I don't know," Wesker said, a phrase not often heard coming from his lips. Getting out into the clearing, Wesker made movement towards the cruisers, and Chris, without realizing it, reached out to grab his shoulder.

He could immediately feel Wesker stiffen, and retracted his hand quickly, trying to undo what he had done. Turning around slightly, Wesker eyed Chris through his sunglasses. "What is it?"

"I just... I... it's nothing," he mumbled, brushing past Wesker— desperately trying to stop himself from blurting out anything about his feelings in an attempt to get rid of them finally.

"You'd best stay quiet about it," Wesker said, stopping Chris in his tracks. Turning around, Chris looked at him carefully. Stepping forward, Wesker got a little too close for his comfort before speaking again. "Stay quiet about the mansion—everyone will find out about it in due time."

And that small glimmer of hope that had blossomed that Wesker was going to talk to him about their relationship was squashed, leaving Chris to follow after him to the cruisers in the blistering summer heat.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"So when do you think my new desk will show up?"

"You mean your old one that you left in the other room? I don't know, maybe when you decide to push it in here. It has been almost two weeks, after all..."

Feeling a paperclip hit the side of his head, Chris snapped his gaze up from his newspaper to glare at Joseph, who was sitting beside him, his feet propped up on a box filled with his junk. "There's no room here. I'm tempted to just stay in Bravo team's office."

"Then go back there..." Chris mumbled, returning to his paper to read a report on the wildlife in Raccoon Forest. It seemed he wasn't the only one who had noticed a sharp decline in the local wildlife population, for the article was dealing with Fish and Wildlife officers who were growing concerned as well. They also seemed none too pleased that the police weren't letting them into the woods to get records together to try and figure out what the hell happened.

"Hey, what's up with you today?" Joseph asked after a few moments of silence, his boots hitting the ground as he moved to rest forward. "You're really quiet."

Finishing the article, Chris flipped the sheet over before sitting back in his own chair. Staring at the STARS emblem behind Wesker's desk, Chris thought about what was 'up' with him. He was stressed about the case (they hadn't had any real breaks), he was still wondering about that damn mansion (Wesker had mentioned it to everyone in passing, but it had little to do with their current agenda), Mindy had become distant (and she still wouldn't tell him the truth about what was making her so nervous), and finally, Wesker was being Wesker. That meant he was always in the back of Chris' thoughts—skittering about, making it difficult for Chris to just get over him and move on.

Of course, he couldn't tell Joseph most of that, and simply shrugged. "Didn't sleep well last night."

"Mm, I've been sleeping terribly the past few days too... No one said joining Alpha team would be so stressful. I keep looking over my shoulder every five seconds thinking Wesker's going to come and fire me because he doesn't like the way I sit," he mumbled, going to take his bandana off. "At least with Enrico I didn't have a constant feeling of paranoia surrounding me wherever I went."

Joseph was assigned to Alpha team two weeks ago, making the teams a little more even when it came to the numbers on each side. With Rebecca joining, it made it so Bravo team was becoming much larger than Alpha team. Chris wasn't completely sure why Wesker chose to carry Joseph over, but he knew Joseph was a competent guy who got the job done, and Brad had been spending too long working on the helicopters mostly by himself. Joseph was a good mechanic, and Brad needed the help. But the strangest thing about the shuffling of the team members was when Wesker announced a man named Kevin Dooley would be joining the fray as Bravo team's new helicopter pilot, shifting Edward down to co-pilot and field operative. Kevin was already a police officer at the RPD, and a pretty competent one at that... But that was it. There was nothing outstanding on his record, no previous experience that would put him above the rest, nothing that set him apart from any other officer walking the beat.

Chris didn't want to sound elitist, but he felt that Kevin was a little unprepared for the demands that STARS put on its members. You had to be incredibly good at what you did, and a regular police officer who could fly a helicopter wasn't what he thought would be a good candidate for STARS. He also wouldn't admit he was a little jealous that even more people got to fly a helicopter while he was sitting out on the sidelines. He hadn't flown in well over a year now, and he was getting antsy.

"Feeling out of place?" Chris asked, finally turning his attention to Joseph.

"A little," he admitted. "I don't know, it just seems like a weird time to be shaking things up so much. We're already on edge from this case, why start putting new people in and taking others out, you know?"

It was true; Chris was beginning to feel a little uneasy even in his own office now.

"Mm... Well, things will get better once we solve this stupid cannibal case," Chris mumbled, tossing a piece of string he'd pulled off of his vest onto his desk with a strong force behind it. Unfortunately, it was too light and floated down and back onto his pants.

"Think we'll ever get a break?" Joseph asked as Jill returned to the room with a cup of coffee in her hands.

"We better," she said, sitting down at her desk. "If we don't, I think we're all going to be admitted to the crazy house... And did you guys stay here for your entire lunch hour?" she added in at the end.

"Yeah, it's raining out," Chris said, frowning. It had been raining all day, and the weather report said it would carry through to tomorrow. The lightening from outside had already made the lights in the RPD flicker a few times.

"So?" she said, giving Chris a confused look.

"So I didn't bring anything for lunch and I didn't want to go out to get something."

Rolling her eyes, Jill shrugged and went to sip her coffee as she opened up a file on her computer. "Whatever, I don't want to hear your stomach growling later on, though."

Sticking his tongue out, Chris sent her a glare she couldn't see before turning his attention to the door, the sound of a loud conversation carrying through, slightly muffled but still apparent.

"What's going on?" Joseph asked, turning around in his chair to stare at the door. Shrugging, Chris figured it was two people yelling at each other from down the hall, and went back to staring off into space before a loud thud was heard against the door.

Standing up along with Joseph, Chris went to the door and threw it open, revealing the sight of two police officers in a full out brawl, their hands grabbing and pulling as they tried to throw punches while protecting themselves.

"What the hell?" Chris yelled, trying to get in between the two of them to break it up. A few other officers had shown up and were trying to help, but it didn't prevent Chris from getting hit in the stomach by a rouge swing. Taking the blow, Chris was winded for a moment and fell back against the wall just as they were broken up by three other cops, all of them trying to prevent the original two from getting close to each other.

"Calm the fuck down," one of the officers yelled out, standing between them with his arms out. No longer feeling like he would die without oxygen, Chris managed to stand up straight, his hand still touching his stomach as a bruise no doubt began to form.

Ripping himself out of one of the officers' grasp, the younger of the two cops gave the other a nasty glare before he stalked off in one direction, the other doing the same except for he went towards the stairs, leaving Chris and the three cops standing in the middle of the hallway.

"What was that about?" Chris asked, grimacing as his muscles seized.

"Who the fuck knows? Probably just some more high strung guys looking to let off steam," one of them said, a hand going to touch his nose where some blood had began to pool under.

"This place is going to the dogs," another mumbled as Chris turned around to return to his office. He figured maybe they should all be turned in to the insane asylum now—screw waiting like Jill had suggested.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Sitting in the meeting room, Chris cracked his neck a few times and crossed his arms in front of his chest, the hum of the projector the only sound in the room save for Wesker's voice. He had been going over the case with the team for the last half hour, information being recited to them that they had already read over again and again. Of course, that didn't stop Wesker from repeating it as if they hadn't been obsessing over it for weeks.

"So when do we actually get to go in and investigate?" Forest asked when Wesker had paused in his speech. Forest was sitting near the back, the light from the projector resting across his face. He seemed relaxed in his pose, but Chris could see the defensive posture he had taken.

"I was getting to that," Wesker said, only a little bit of annoyance hiding behind what he had said. Pressing a button, the projector slid to a new photo, this time of the Raccoon Forest map, dots littering it with all of them different colours except for numerous red and yellow ones that seemed to be surrounding a large green square.

"Going over the case files, I decided to try and place the reported attacks and murders on a map of the forest and outer reaches of the city. Unfortunately, some of the bodies were not found where they were presumed to be killed—as is the case for the first murder— and will be omitted from the main theory I have at the moment."

"And what theory is that?" Forest asked again, eyebrows furrowed as he studied the map.

"I was getting there..." Wesker said, and Chris knew he was glaring at him from behind his sunglasses. "For the other bodies that were discovered in their original resting place, they all seemed to be centered in one particular area." Using a little laser pointer, Wesker drew their attention to the red dots scattered around the green square. "The red dots here represent the murders, and the yellow ones represent reported sighting that would qualify as strange and related to the investigation—reports such as groups of roaming people and wild dogs.

"As you can see, the yellow points congregate mostly around the same area the bodies have been found around, with a few only straying so far as the outer city limits," he said, bringing their attention to one yellow dot that appeared near a gas station just outside the dense tree line. If Chris remembered correctly, a man reported seeing a mangy, rabid dog wandering around near the pumps late at night.

"So what's the green square?" Enrico asked as Wesker turned off his laser pointer.

"Two weeks ago," Wesker began as he went to lean against the podium at the front, "when we went to clear the forest out, Jill noticed a strange house that was not on any of our maps. Trying to gather information on the place has been, unfortunately, fruitless, but when I placed the house on the map and related the murders and sightings to its location, a disturbing similarity began to crop up—that similarity is what you are looking at now."

"So... you think this house has something to do with the murders?" Chris asked, trying to piece it all together quickly so he didn't look like an idiot. Maybe the murderers were living in that place?

Nodding, Wesker turned the projector off and nodded to Forest, who turned the lights back on. "I believe that this house is connected to these cases. The extent to which it is, I am unsure of, but I feel that if we investigate the house itself, we may come up with some answers. It is a start if nothing else."

Frowning, Chris sat in his chair, the atmosphere in the room stuffy and claustrophobic. He felt like there was a heavy weight looming over them, and the rope holding it up was just at its breaking point.

"Bravo team, you'll be the first to go in and secure the area—you will begin the investigation while Alpha team will provide backup if it is needed." Wesker said it quickly and with authority, making it clear no one would question his decision.

"When?" Enrico asked.

"Tomorrow night."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

The initial meeting started at ten in the morning, and none of the STARS members were dismissed until six o'clock that evening. Wesker had gone over the plan about ten times over, ensuring everyone was properly prepared for... whatever was out there. Bravo team would go in at night, a time when the murders occurred and the most activity in the area was sighted. They would land the helicopter in a clearing not far from the mansion, and two units would be dispatched from the main meeting point. One would go scope out the mansion and make sure the perimeter was safe before entering, while the second unit would patrol the surrounding area in search of the murderers or the mangy dogs that were reported on a semi-frequent basis now.

All were told to shoot the dogs if they saw them, and approach any human suspect with extreme caution. If one wrong move was made, they were given permission to shoot.

This was all well and good, and everyone agreed upon it... Except for those in Alpha team. Chris didn't understand why Bravo was being sent in and not Alpha. He realized that Bravo team needed back up should anything happen, but he didn't see why they were the back up and not the other unit. He wanted in there—he wanted to explore the place, uncover the mysteries, and actually fucking do something. But instead he would be stationed in their office, sitting in front of the radios and recording devices like a sad little lump of uselessness.

Jill said he was overreacting when they left the meeting room, but he didn't think so. He just wanted something to do, not only to solve the case but get his mind off of everything else that was going on around him. He felt overwhelmed with the sudden emotional situations he found himself in mostly due to Mindy and Wesker, and didn't know how to handle it properly. So he searched for something to shut himself off with—a diversion within a diversion.

But he couldn't even have that.

Saying goodbye to his fellow members, Chris left in his Jeep to go home, the rain still falling in a steady stream. The ground was soaking wet and the streets were cool to the touch. It felt more like late September than the middle of July, and Chris was beginning to think even the weather was against him.

Returning home, Chris had a quick dinner that involved a frozen meal and a peach before he sat back on his couch and stared out the window, trying not to think too much about 'what if's like he had been for the last couple of weeks.

What if Mindy was in trouble and needed his help? And what if something serious happened to her but he didn't do anything because he couldn't get the proper information?

What if the mission tomorrow went badly? What if they find the murderers and they were attacked? Would someone get hurt?

And finally, what if Wesker hadn't closed himself off? What if he told Chris what was going on in his life? Would they have been able to work it out? Or what if Wesker would actually listen to him work his feelings out so he could finally find some peace and closure?

So many what ifs with no actual answers. He felt like he was running around in circles in his own head.

Lying down on his couch, he closed his eyes and listened to the patter of the rainfall, trying to doze off to find some sort of semblance of peace...

Unfortunately, he was woken by a loud buzzing from his speaker near the door, prompting him to sit up quickly, heart beating a mile a minute as the silence was broken. Calming himself, Chris took a deep breath and shook his head before standing up to go to the receiver.

"Hello?" he mumbled, resting against the wall as he pressed the little white button under the speaker.

"May I come in?"

Raising an eyebrow, Chris realized it was Wesker on the other side, and for a moment he thought he was hearing things, making things up given his train of thought. But he then came to the conclusion that he wouldn't make Wesker's voice sound so... strained and jittery—his voice was faster like he was in a hurry.

Wesker didn't sound like he usually did. His tone lacked a certain arrogance and confidence...

"Yeah, sure," Chris replied before buzzing him in. Clenching and unclenching his hands, Chris suddenly felt his mouth go dry and his palms become sweaty, the realization that Wesker was coming up to speak to him getting the better of him.

He didn't know why Wesker was coming over, especially not after how many times he had shot him down to talk things through and get closure... He didn't know what was going on, and that made him nervous; on edge and hesitant to go through with this... whatever it was.

Staying by the door, Chris waited until he heard a knock and opened it to see Wesker standing before him, completely soaked to the bone. His hair was flat and wet, little strands dripping water droplets. His shirt was stuck to his skin and bunched up around his arms and waist, and his sunglasses were gone, pocketed or simply let in his car. He looked like a mess.

"W-were you standing outside?" he found himself asking, trying to push past the slight apprehension when he looked into Wesker's steel grey eyes. He couldn't read Wesker... He was completely closed off. There was no emotion on his face except for blind determination. But none of the usual cues could give Chris insight into what Wesker was thinking.

It scared him.

"Wesker... What's going on?" he found himself asking when Wesker simply took a shaky breath. Once again, instead of replying, Wesker seemed to have a debate within himself, mind elsewhere for a time before he finally turned his attention back to Chris. A moment between them passed in which Chris wanted to back away, before Wesker was on him, grabbing his face and pulling him close for a bruising kiss.

Grabbing at Wesker's wrists and clutching onto them until his knuckles were white, Chris tried to pull him off in an attempt to become grounded again, but found his entire body being slammed against the wall near his telephone. Wincing as pain ran through his spine and up to the back of his head, Chris squeezed his eyes shut and momentarily stopped his attempts to get Wesker off of him.

Wesker, in the meantime, took the opportunity to press himself fully against Chris, his body incredibly hot underneath all of the cold fabric that clung to him like a second skin. Gasping, Chris opened his mouth and Wesker slid his tongue in quick as a snake, making Chris weak despite wanting to protest.

Letting out a frustrated sound, Chris tried to push Wesker off of him again, wanting to talk to him and figure out what the hell was going on. This is what broke them apart—the pure physicality and brutal behaviour of their relationship with very little emotional investment on the side of Wesker. It was all about that kill— about the domination and the control and nothing about an actual emotional connection.

Finally breaking the kiss, Chris tried to speak as Wesker began to suck on the skin right under his jaw, biting down with more force than necessary, making him cry out more in pain than pleasure.

"Wesker, don't," he tried to say, but instead found Wesker was pressing between him, slamming his hips against the wall and bruising his tailbone in the process. He wanted to just talk, he wanted to calm Wesker down and get him to stop acting like some trapped, wild animal. He almost wanted Wesker to stop, an overwhelming sense of wrong capturing him and holding him in, pulling him under and suffocating his sense of reality and morals.

It wasn't rape, but it was close enough that Chris felt a certain amount of fear. He wanted Wesker back—he wanted him so badly. But he was afraid that if he let him take him this way, that all of what he stood for would fall away. That that strong wall of defence he had built up to protect himself from letting Wesker use him again would crumble with the simple press of their lips together.

He didn't want to become the type of person that would let themselves be used...

But instead of protesting further, instead of standing up for what he wanted for himself, he let himself be dragged to his bed and thrown upon the mattress like some rag doll, his resolve breaking.

Landing on his stomach, he coughed as the bruising on his abdomen screamed out, sending more pain through his body. Wesker didn't seem to care as he pulled Chris' pants off, a distinct ripping sound resonating around the room, interrupting the sound of rain as it lashed against the window.

Tossing them across the room, Wesker shoved Chris' underpants down so they were resting on his thighs and pulled his hips up, exposing his ass and making him blush at the blatant disregard for his decency. Grimacing as the pain continued to linger on his stomach, Chris squeezed his eyes shut as the sound of Wesker's pants zipper being pulled down carried to him like the sound of stone walls crashing down around him.

He could turn back down—his one last chance. He could move away and physically distance himself from Wesker. He knew Wesker wouldn't fully rape him—knew that if he told him to stop he would. But he didn't say it; he didn't tell Wesker to stop and he didn't move. All he did was bite down hard on his pillow as Wesker slammed into him with no preparation, stretching his hole in an unpleasant manner.

Grasping at his sheets, Chris braced himself as Wesker began to move against him, slamming in again and again as Chris tried to keep himself together, his body rocking close to the headboard. He could feel Wesker's pants hitting his ass and thighs in an unpleasantly cold way that contrasted against the burning he was feeling in between his legs. Blocking off any emotions, Chris tried to enjoy the feeling of having Wesker inside him, but couldn't.

It hurt like a fucking bitch.

Letting Wesker do what he wanted, Chris could feel his still clothed body press against his back, his teeth biting down on the nap of Chris' neck as he continued to thrust against him, growls escaping past his lips every so often, giving away the animalistic nature behind what they were doing.

This was sex in its most primal form—raw, powerful, and dangerous. This was what Wesker was—this is what Wesker always would be. It excited and terrified Chris, and he carried those feelings with him as he braced his body for Wesker's impending orgasm.

Holding it together, Chris felt Wesker move to press his cheek against Chris', hot breath clinging to his skin as he came, hips snapping forward and grinding deep into his ass. Chris whimpered softly as he came deep inside him, body shaking just as Weser collapsed on top of him, no longer able to stay upright.

Lying on the mattress with Wesker still inside him, Chris finally opened his eyes to stare outside at the rain that was falling, darkness already closing in on the city as the sun went down... You couldn't tell, though, not with the cloud cover drenching the city into dull greys. Watching the water droplets fall down the windowpane, Chris continued to shake, his body overstimulated and his mind a complete wash.

He didn't know what Wesker was doing, and he didn't care. He just hoped that whatever Wesker was thinking, whatever he had intended to resolve by coming here, that he had figured it out because those feelings he just experienced—shame, fear, and confusion—were not going to be wasted upon an endeavour that didn't leave Wesker somewhat satisfied.

If Wesker didn't have a reason for this, Chris was going to kill him.

Finally, Wesker was moving, pulling out of Chris before standing up. Waiting for Wesker to return with something to clean himself up with, he was genuinely surprised to hear Wesker zipping up his pants before his footsteps headed to the door.

Getting up quick as a whip, Chris turned around and managed to grab Wesker's wrist before he made it too far. Turning his head to look at Chris, they locked eyes, both of them unwavering in their gaze before Chris spoke.

"You don't have to tell me what's going on, and you don't have to explain yourself, but I will not let you come in here and use me like some cheap whore," he said, voice shaking with emotion. "Either you walk out that door and never, ever fucking come to me again... or you stay the night and get over whatever the fuck is going on with you."

He didn't know why he wanted Wesker to stay, especially after what had just happened, but he couldn't have Wesker walk out that door—not tonight and not when he was so close to getting that closure.

There was a long, tense moment of silence from then on, but Chris refused to let go of Wesker's wrist. Staring at each other, they didn't move at all before Wesker's jaw relaxed the slightest of fractions. Taking his hand back, Wesker turned around and headed this time for the bathroom. Watching him through the open door, Chris saw him wet a towel before he returned to toss it to him.

Fumbling with the catch, Chris was caught off guard by the fact that he had actually gone to retrieve something to clean himself up with like he used to do. Standing up shakily, he moved to clean his lower area with care, turning away from Wesker as if it was something to be ashamed of.

Finishing, Chris went to put the towel in the sink in the bathroom, and returned to see Wesker undressing, the garments clinging to his skin as he slowly peeled them off. His back was to Chris as he sat on the edge of the bed, and Chris watched the process, trying to get insight into what Wesker was thinking... Why he had come... Why he was staying.

He soon realized, though, that he would get no answers for his questions, and instead found himself mentally beating himself up for what he had done. He'd once again bitten into the forbidden fruit—tasted the apple and let the snake wrap itself around him...

But he could bring himself down about it later. Right now he was going to rest, to get some much needed sleep and think about it all after the mission was done and all outside distractions were gone. Returning his gaze to Wesker, he admired the way the blue light from the moon that was peeking out from behind a cloud rested along the sharp angles and lines of Wesker's silhouette, and tried to stay calm and collected, for both their sakes.

He was clearly caught up about something, and Chris was going to give him the benefit of the doubt... for now. This wasn't the time for mistrust and bitter feelings, not when tomorrow evening was fast approaching. They had to be united.

Stripping the rest of the way, Chris climbed into his bed the same time Wesker did, and laid down. Staring up at the ceiling, Chris rested his arm behind his head, and could see Wesker do the same out of the corner of his eye.

Watching the shadows dance across the ceiling, Chris finally found his mind slowing down as he rested next to Wesker, who was doing the very same, their sides pressed together—Wesker's cooling skin tingling his own. No words were exchanged, no thoughts shared... They simply laid and stared at the ceiling until sleep came.

Tomorrow, Bravo team was going in to investigate the mansion, and then things would start to make sense again... There would be closure—Chris would make sure he got Wesker to speak to him. They weren't leaving this apartment until something happened and he could finally move on.

Tomorrow, everything would change. Chris felt it in his gut.

* * *

_Wesker's feeling stressed and needs some lovin'. Too bad he goes about it the wrong way. Anyways, ZOMBIES! YES! SOON! I SWEAR! But maybe not the next chapter... or the chapter after that. But I guarantee that they will arrive very soon. Also, it's taken me a YEAR to get to this point in the story. A YEAR! Man, you guys are dedicated for sticking with this story, and I want to send you all candy... but I can't. I would if I could, though! Finally, please check out my profile- I've linked a whole bunch of art people have done for SoF! Go check it out! Anyways, Happy New Year!_


	36. Love

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Graphic MalexMale sex_

**Authors Note: **This chapter is dedicated to **Tyrann **who won third place in the WxC 'Monster' fanfiction contest~! I know it's been a while since I did the contest, but I was saving this chapter just for you! I hope you're still reading through the story! Anyways, you guys are gonna like this chapter, I know a lot of you have been requesting this... theme, so here we go!

* * *

**Chapter 36- Love  
**

_Love is much like a wild rose, beautiful and calm, but willing to draw blood in its defense. ~Mark Overby~_**  
**

When Chris woke up, he was greeted with the first few morning rays shining in his eyes, blinding him momentarily. Groaning, he squeezed his eyes shut and shifted his face into his pillow, trying to block out the light.

It took him a few minutes of lying and not moving to remember last night, and when he did he wished he hadn't thought so hard to remember. He had been safe—secure in the ignorance that came with just waking up. But that feeling never lasted, and when it left it usually left Chris with either a feeling of excitement, or dread.

Today was a day that Chris could see no possible way of looking up. He was in pain, for starters. When Wesker had entered him last night he'd been rough; too rough. He thought maybe something tore, but couldn't be sure. But his lower area was throbbing now, a dull ache that wouldn't go away no matter how hard he tried not to move—even breathing sent little tiny shocks through him.

He wasn't even going to begin to assess his emotional side. He would just stick with the physical side for now... Emotions could wait. He simply continued to lie in bed, not knowing what time it was but unable to really care. Yes, he had a mission, and yes, important things were going to happen today... But he didn't want to face those either. Emotions and responsibilities be damned, Chris just wanted to sleep for a million years.

But feeling a shift in the bed snapped him out of his daze, and he jumped a little, surprised Wesker was still in bed with him. Trying to decide on whether or not he would continue feigning death or roll around to finally face Wesker, Chris took too long and had Wesker decide for him. Feeling an arm wrap around his waist, he stiffened as Wesker pulled him against his chest, long, delicate fingers sliding down his abdomen.

Damn, it felt good to have Wesker touch him again. But no, Chris was not going to let this happen again. He was actually going to get something out of Wesker.

Pulling away, he heard Wesker growl softly as he turned around on the bed, sitting up to look down at Wesker. His hair was tangled and splayed out on the pillows, grey eyes staring up at him, making Chris feel uneasy. His face was oddly relaxed given the circumstances, but he had bags under his eyes, visible even with the shadows playing across his face from Chris' bedroom blinds.

"What the fuck is going on with you?" he found himself saying, voice still rough with sleep.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit. You don't just come into my apartment, bulldoze down everything I had built up to get over you, brutally fuck me, and then say it was nothing." Chris was sick and tired of Wesker dodging the question or outright lying.

Continuing to lie on the bed, Wesker looked away for a moment, the corners of his mouth tensing before he spoke. "I needed some stress relief... A moment to forget about what has been going on as of late. I thought you would understand such desires."

"I would if you had said something to me," Chris said, running a hand through his hair. "God, Wesker... What did you expect I'd think when you did what you did? You scared me." Chris didn't usually admit to being scared or frightened, and he certainly didn't want to admit it to Wesker. But it slipped out at the end, and it was too late to take it back.

"I apologise for any discomfort I may have caused," Wesker said, sitting up to look at him. "Could we speak about this later, though? I need to return to my apartment to prepare for today."

"No."

"Chris, this isn't up for discussion..." Wesker said, as if he was Chris' school teacher and he was acting up in class.

"No, we need to get this cleared up now—I need to get over you."

Raising an eyebrow, Chris saw something flash in Wesker's eyes, a moment of softness in his usually hard exterior before it was quickly swallowed up once more.

"Are you that eager to forget about us?" he asked, making Chris falter. He had expected Wesker to get up and leave, or perhaps demand that Chris stop being overly sensitive. He was so ready to hear something like that that he already had his mouth open with a comeback.

"Yeah, well... Wait..." Trailing off, Chris peered at Wesker, trying to catch that bit of emotion he'd seen before, only to be staring back at a statue. "I'm not eager, but I need it. Wesker, you're keeping me up at night, haunting me during the day, and constantly reminding me of what it was like to be—"

No... No, he wasn't going to say it. That word did not co-exist with him and Wesker, and he would never say it to himself nor anyone else.

"Like to be what?" Wesker asked, although he seemed more interested than he was letting on.

Glancing away, Chris went to stare at Wesker's toes which were peeking out from under the blanket, trying to get his emotions in check before he blathered on about something he didn't care to share.

"I just wanted us to work out," he found himself saying, voice unusually soft for him. "I wanted us to have a real relationship... I gave so much up for you and you just didn't care. You lied, you used me, you abused me in some ways... and I kept coming back because I thought you would give me that sign that you cared."

Finally looking up, Chris locked eyes with Wesker, his jaw tight as he almost physically pushed back the emotion in his voice.

"What was that sign?" Wesker asked after a time, their gaze never breaking.

"I... I don't know. I just wanted to know I was accepted and that I meant more to you than—" Freezing, Chris suddenly felt Wesker's hand cup his cheek, his spider-like fingers reaching to his brow while his thumb brushed his lip.

"Don't say anything," Wesker said, his voice suddenly quiet as he leaned in to kiss Chris slowly, tender and soft in its approach—completely different from last night. For a second Chris wanted to push him away, but that was only for a second before the kiss consumed him and his will finally broke. He had said what he needed to say, gotten it out and over and done with. This was Wesker's reply—a kiss. And in the back of his mind, Chris wanted more and tried to tell himself he deserved more; he deserved to hear Wesker's thoughts and his view on their relationship, but he would never get it.

He thought the kiss was Wesker's answer, that he just wanted Chris' body and cared little for his emotions, thoughts, and ideas... But then Wesker did something—he shifted a little and pulled Chris down with him.

Falling back on the mattress with Wesker, Chris found himself on top of him, the kiss still going on. Surprised by the position, Chris stiffened and as a result, faltered into the kiss before breaking it as Wesker shivered under him.

"What are you—" he began, only to have Wesker interrupt.

"I told you not to say anything," he said as he slowly, almost hesitantly spread his legs to accommodate Chris' form. Sliding in between Wesker's warm, strong thighs, he was completely baffled by Wesker's behaviour, before he realized...

This was Wesker's answer.

This was what their relationship was to him. A relationship of give and take; one that involved a transformation on both of their parts—a transformation that had to happen for the both of them in order for the two of them to have worked at all. Chris thought he had been the only one to change, that he had been the one to question his sexuality and ideas about the world as he grew attracted to Wesker.

But now he realized Wesker had changed too. He had begun to laugh and smile, had begun to share his emotions a little more freely, and had actually welcomed Chris into his life; a life he gathered very few had ever really seen. And now Wesker was handing the reins over to him, giving him that control to show him that sign he had been so desperate for before. A sign that said he was willing to be in it just as much as Chris was... That he was willing to change and try something new, just like Chris had done months ago.

Moving to kiss Wesker again, he let him dominate the kiss so as to not freak him out too much, as he began to slowly grow once again accustomed to lying on top of another person—feeling their legs slide against his side in a warm, erotic way that made him feel comfortable. He was still having trouble convincing himself that this was real and not a dream, but the ache he felt in his lower half as he rubbed experimentally against Wesker reminded him this wasn't a dream.

It didn't turn him off from what he was doing, though.

He could feel Wesker bring his hands up to grasp his arms, and tried not to wince as he tightened his grip while he ground down on him, getting their cocks to slide against each other in an attempt to get them both aroused. For Wesker's part, he wasn't freaking out too much, most of his apparent unease centered in his hands as he squeezed and released Chris' biceps a few times. His grip did eventually relax, and Chris could feel him getting a little harder as they ground together, Wesker's hips moving up a few times to meet Chris halfway.

Finally breaking the kiss, Chris let their lips brush for a time, their breathing becoming heavy and hot, making him moan softly as Wesker's breath washed over his mouth, the nerves on his lips tingling. Opening his eyes to lock with Wesker's, he brought his forehead down to touch his as they continued to move together, their bodies in perfect harmony. Save for Wesker's hands, which had gone from his biceps to his shoulders, long fingers digging into the skin there.

"Relax..." he found himself whispering, even though he was as nervous as Wesker was. He had never imagined he'd be doing this with Wesker—never thought he would get to experience something like this with another man. And it terrified him in a way.

What if he was bad? What if he hurt Wesker? What if Wesker freaked out in the middle of it and hurt both of them?

Trying to push away the trepidation he was feeling, he let out a shaky breath just as Wesker closed his eyes, breaking their connection. Chris watched as he furrowed his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth still tight as he tried to relax. The nerves would get the better of them if they didn't stop worrying so much.

"If you're uncomfortable we can stop," Chris said, his hips stilling as Wesker continued to stay stiff under him, muscles occasionally shuddering as his nerves had a physical effect on him.

Letting out a deep breath, Wesker clenched his jaw before opening his eyes, glaring up at Chris. "I told you to stop talking." And then he pushed his hips up, their cocks once again sliding together.

Deciding to let Wesker do what he wanted, Chris moved to kiss down his neck, stuffing his face in the crook. He smelt like spices, warmth, sex, and a hint of musk, and Chris couldn't get enough of it. Trailing his kisses back up, he went to nibble on Wesker's earlobe, relaxing into the more dominating roll for both of their sake. Someone had to calm down, and for once he would be the one to do it.

He could hear Wesker let out a soft hum as he sucked on his earlobe, and slowly but surely he began to relax, his thighs no longer shaking against Chris' sides. Instead, they were still and warm, giving Chris a silent go ahead to move further.

Lifting his head up, Chris moved so he was resting a little above Wesker, one hand going to rub his thigh. "C-can I—"

"Yes," Wesker said, as if he had read Chris' mind. Nodding, he moved to open the drawer beside his bed, fishing around for the lube and condom he'd kept there since Wesker had made a few visits in the past. Finding the bottle and a condom, Chris sat back on the bed and watched as Wesker closed his eyes and moved a little, exposing himself.

Swallowing thickly, Chris admired Wesker's alabaster skin and how his hardening cock contrasted beautifully against it. He had never had a man do this for him—never really been in a position to see someone just as powerful and dominating as him give and expose themselves willingly. It was a rush for Chris, to see this, to experience this with Wesker, of all people.

Once again calming himself, Chris squirted some lube onto his fingers, warming it a little before he moved his fingers down to Wesker's entrance, pausing just before touching.

He'd never done anything like this and it made him nervous once again. He knew how Wesker did it, but he never actually saw it all himself, having not been fortunate enough to be born Mr. Fantastic. "I don't... I mean..."

Sitting up a little, Wesker kept his legs spread and reached down to grasp Chris' wrist, pulling his hand close to his hole. "Use your pointer first, and wait for me to say it's all right to add a second," he explained, dominating despite what he was letting Chris do. Nodding, Chris took a steady breath and let Wesker relax on the mattress before he slid his finger slowly into him, mind going blank for a second. Wesker was tightening and then relaxing against the intrusion, making it a little difficult to get it fully in, but Chris continued until he was in all the way. He moved it carefully as he read Wesker's reactions, realizing it was new, uncomfortable, and probably a little frightening—he should know. But he soon managed to get a second finger in, and couldn't help but grin in triumph as he found Wesker's prostate.

Gasping softly, Wesker's toes actually curled a little as Chris stroked it, hopefully giving Wesker a whole new appreciation for being on the bottom sometimes.

"Does this feel good?" he found himself asking, hoping Wesker was enjoying this.

"Stop talking," Wesker growled out, hair clinging to his forehead as he began to breathe a little faster, Chris' fingers apparently having quite the effect on him.

Again, Chris shut up and prepared Wesker until he could feel him getting a little looser. He didn't know what constituted as being ready when he couldn't personally feel it himself, and waited until Wesker's breathing evened out a little and his eyebrows were less furrowed.

Nodding once, Wesker moved to swat Chris' hand away, signally he was ready. Moving his hand, he went to grab the condom, figuring Wesker wasn't ready to have bareback sex. Sliding the condom on, he found it a little strange to be wearing one again, but got over it soon enough as he looked at the sight before him. Wesker seemed to have relaxed a little as Chris put the condom on, and was lying before him, his legs spread and his cock half-hard as he stroked it slowly, trying to keep himself aroused. His mouth was parted, and he was gazing down his body at Chris, grey eyes like steel with lust lingering behind the usually stoic expression. He was gorgeous, and Chris found himself moving to kiss Wesker deeply, his body once again resting over top, their heartbeats connected as they lay together. Shifting their angle, he deepened the kiss as his cock touched Wesker's entrance hesitantly. But once again Wesker became stiff, and he tried to soothe away any further hesitation by kissing his bottom lip gently.

Breaking the kiss, Wesker caught his breath as he looked down at their forms. "Sit up a little and guide yourself in... I'm not loose enough for you to easily slide in from this position," he explained, making Chris glad they didn't do a lot of dirty talk.

"Are you sure you want this?" Chris asked one last time, wanting Wesker to be behind this completely. If he wasn't and he would regret it, Chris would probably not live to tell the tale.

"I'm bloody well fine, now do this before I do change my mind," he practically barked out, and Chris wished for a moment that Wesker was a little more romantic. It wasn't every day someone gave themself like this, and Chris wanted to savour the moment. But he had to follow his Captain's orders, and this was one he was more than willing to comply with.

Positioning himself carefully, Chris took a second to calm his own nerves before he pushed in slowly, a soft groan escaping as heat enveloped his cock. He hadn't been inside anyone for some time, and he found himself overcome for a moment, moaning as he moved in all the way. Wesker felt amazing, his entire being surrounding Chris, inviting him and keeping him close. Finally, they had shared something that not even Wesker could deny was special.

They were equal now.

Shaking above him, Chris opened his eyes to stare down at Wesker, watching his features as he adjusted to the foreign body inside him. Hearing a soft moan escape, Chris shuddered once again, his cock jumping inside Wesker. He wasn't going to move until Wesker told him he was okay, but it was so damn tempting to thrust into that warm, almost hot heat inside.

"G-go," Wesker finally panted out, eyebrows furrowed together while his hands once again found purchase on Chris' shoulders, squeezing as he finally pulled out before moving back in. He kept it slow while he moved in and out of Wesker, trying to keep himself grounded as the feelings washed over him, setting every little nerve in his body on fire.

It was overwhelming.

Picking up the pace as Wesker began to move against him, Chris ducked his head down and kissed Wesker deeply, letting him take back a little bit of that domination through the kiss. With one arm resting near Wesker's head, Chris slid his other down to grasp his thigh, caressing it as best he could as they coupled. Wesker felt amazing under him, moving with him and opening himself up to him. He couldn't have asked for anything more from Wesker than this, a sign that he was slowly changing—for the better.

They stayed together for what seemed like hours, both of them holding out for as long as possible as they kissed, bit, sucked, and licked. At one point in time, Chris had to pull out when Wesker got a little too nervous, his hands crushing the bones in Chris' arms. But even then they stayed lying together, ravishing each other and keeping as close as possible until Wesker was ready to go again.

It only took another ten minutes after he was back inside that Chris found himself coming close to the edge, his speed picking up a little as Wesker further relaxed to accommodate him. Lifting himself up, Chris watched as Wesker brought a hand down to stroke himself while the other went to push up against Chris' chest, the veins in his hands contrasting against his pale skin.

"I-I'm close," Chris admitted, looking down to admire their joined forms, his tanned hips pressed close against Wesker's ass. They contrasted so much, and yet they worked...

"It's all right," Wesker panted out, sweat forming between their bodies. Letting out a soft huff, Wesker continued to stroke himself as Chris sped up, unable to stop himself now.

Moving once more, Chris suddenly came, mind going awash as he ground into Wesker, eyes squeezing shut as he panted out Wesker's name. He wasn't thinking about anything but Wesker—and he repeated his name in his head like a mantra. He had gone from hating Wesker mere hours ago, to never wanting to feel such confusion and animosity towards him again. Riding out the feeling, Chris dropped his head down and eventually just stopped thinking all together, the orgasm different than the ones he had been experiencing before, the sensations and emotions making everything that much better. He was in ecstasy.

Finishing eventually, Chris opened his eyes just in time to see Wesker orgasm, lucky enough to catch the beautiful site that eluded him for so long. Never had Wesker let him see his face as he came—never let him admire the view as Wesker lost control for just a single moment. But now Chris got to see it, his mind once again finding it hard to think about anything but _him_. His brow was slightly furrowed, his thin, pink lips parted, and his cheeks flushed. His eyes were closed as strands of hair rested across his forehead, the soft gold and silver catching the light from outside. And his head was tossed back, neck muscles tight as he purred out what sounded like Chris' name in that low, English drawl.

And all of a sudden the past regrets and hurtful things that had been said and done were in the past, making Chris willing to move on if Wesker was. Move on together.

When they had both finished, Chris stayed poised above Wesker until he opened his eyes, ecstasy still evident amidst every other emotion he must have been feeling yet Chris couldn't even begin to guess at. Collapsing finally, he laid on top of Wesker for a moment, shuddering and breathing heavily as he tried to come to terms with what he had just seen and experienced. Wesker had let him inside. He had let him dominate him and become equal... Chris felt as high as a kite at the moment, every fibre of his being humming with an afterglow he had never felt before.

But the moment didn't last long before Wesker was moving, struggling under Chris. "I need you to get off." Listening to his tone, Chris realized Wesker was going to get violent in a few seconds if he didn't move, and found himself getting up and pulling out quick as a whip, moving to sit on the other side of the bed. He watched as Wesker quickly closed his legs before sitting up as well, his movements shaky and hesitant, as if he was unsure if his limbs still worked. He could hear him take a deep breath as he shifted, and his grey eyes strayed downwards to inspect his legs, thighs slick with sweat.

"May I use your shower?" he asked as he went to rest on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched forward as he once again physically closed himself off.

"Y-yeah," Chris said, not touching Wesker while he stood up and created further distance between them. "Are you okay?"

If Wesker already thought this was a mistake...

"I'm fine, Chris... I'm fine," he said, turning around to look Chris over carefully. For a moment he thought Wesker was already regretting it, but when he turned around he could see that he seemed more shaken than anything else. He wasn't used to giving away so much control, and Chris would let him work his feelings out on the matter.

Waiting until Wesker had entered the washroom, Chris didn't move until the door was closed and the sound of the shower carried through. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Chris took the condom off and tossed it in the small garbage beside his bedside table, then stood up to open his window, his feelings suddenly becoming clear as the wooden window frame slid against the wall.

He had been so caught up on forgetting about Wesker and reassuring himself that he could move on that he had missed one very important thing—one important part that had prevented him from getting the peace he was so desperate for. But now he could admit it—now he knew what that missing thing was, and he was ready to place it in its rightful spot to complete the puzzle.

Letting the muggy, summer morning air inside, Chris stuck his head out the window and rested his arms against the frame, fingers interlocking before him. With the sound of the shower in the background and the smell of cut grass and sex around him, Chris finally whispered what he had refused to admit out loud even when alone.

"I'm in love."

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_OH HO HO HO! Bottom!Wesker! FINALLY! You guys, I adore Bottom!Wesker- it's my favourite thing when it comes to this pairing, seriously. I've written other bottom!Wesker stories since I wrote this chapter, but none have seen the light of day due to me wanting to keep this chapter special! But hey, now that this story is officially one year old, perhaps I'll post a one-shot I wrote a while ago that has a whole lot of bottom!Wesker- more graphic and sexy than this chapter. It will be a gift to all of you for sticking by me as this story grows more and more massive! Anyways, thanks for reading, you guys rock! _


	37. Farewell

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Nothing  
_

**Authors Note: **Okay, good news and bad news! First! **Everyone should go read 'Lacuna' by Lastglances.** It's an awesome story and everyone should go and check it out, because it seriously deserves attention. Also, it's WeskerxChris. Secondly! **I need to go on another hiatus. **I know you guys don't want to hear this, but it needs to happen. I'm having some health issues that have come up, and it could be pretty serious. Not life threatening or anything, but I need to get rid of my stress levels while I work things out. So yes, another hiatus. **Hopefully I'll only miss about two updates- so 20 days. **It should not be longer than that. Just know that I AM** NOT** ABANDONING THE STORY. I just need to work things out health wise, so please respect that. **  
**

**

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**

**Chapter 37- Farewell  
**

_Man's feelings are always purest and most glowing in the hour of meeting and of farewell. ~Jean Paul Richter~_**  
**

"You're not leaving because... you know, of what happened, right?"

_Oh God, please don't be upset._

"No, I have work to do—you know that better than anyone else."

_Of course... Yes, work. He always has work._

"Oh... Well, I'll see you tonight?"

"Yes, you should get some sleep before you arrive at the office. We're going to have a long night."

_Sleep... Yeah, sleep would be good. The mission is coming up. Bravo team is leaving in a few hours..._

"You should too—you look beat."

"I appreciate your concern, Chris, but I will be fine. Enjoy having the day off."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay? Hang out for a bit?"

_Please say yes, please say yes, please say—_

"No, I really have things to attend to. Take care, dear heart."

Fuck.

Shutting the door after a final kiss, Chris let Wesker leave his apartment without telling him what he had just discovered, despite desperately wanting to. When Wesker had finished his shower and had dressed, Chris had repeated the word 'love' over and over again in his head, his lower back and elbows aching as he continued to stare out the window, mind wandering off as it occasionally did.

He was in love with Wesker.

He was head over heels in love with Albert Wesker.

He was in love—plain and simple.

It felt good. It felt right. It felt... amazing and wonderful and... and scary. Dear God, he was in _love_ with Wesker. What did this mean, exactly? Was he going to tell Wesker how he felt? Would Wesker accept the confession and even have one himself? Or would he laugh in his face and brush it off like it was nothing special? He wanted to think it through first. Wanted to cradle and nurture the feeling for a time—he had time, right?

Bouncing his knee in the bathroom, Chris sat on the edge of the tub and let the water flow into the basin, filling it all the way up. He felt on edge, antsy and high strung. When he had been inside Wesker he felt whole; complete and safe. But as soon as it was finished, as soon as he had opened the window and that moment of clarity had come, it disappeared, leaving him questioning and nervous.

The feelings went far beyond simple apprehension towards his newfound feelings for Wesker, as well. While those were enough to make his knee bounce, there was another feeling of unease surrounding him, making his mouth dry and his tongue thick in the back of his throat. Today had started good, but as soon as Wesker left he began to have reservations about... something.

Watching the water rush out of the tap at an alarming speed, Chris dipped his fingers in to feel the hot water caress the digits, making his skin pink. Trying to push past the emotions that were threatening to throw him off his game, he went back to simpler thoughts.

He was in _love_ with _Wesker_.

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**XX**

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Chris ended up soaking in the tub for quite some time, letting himself indulge in something he rarely ever did. He blamed his love of baths on his mother. She had always taken a long evening bath when he was a child, and he remembered how she would always come out smelling of roses and the pages of a book she had been reading. When he grew older he was put in charge of helping bathe Claire, and more often than not he was in the tub with her, dumping the small bucket of water over her head as their father tried to tame them—the majority of the water ended up out of the tub and on him and the floor after all was said and done.

Baths had a good connection to them, and yet he rarely took them. But today was an exception. Watching the soap bubbles collect at the top of the water, Chris tried to forget about all of the tension he was feeling in his shoulders and the unneeded stress, and simply let go—he hadn't relaxed like this in weeks. Closing his eyes, he rested his head back against the harsh edge of the tub, not caring that it dug in a little. Making his mind go blank, he simply floated, the warm water sliding against his skin while the drip of the tap into the bathtub resounded around the room, helping him stay in a calm, relaxing mood. Letting out a soft sigh, Chris didn't think about anything, not even Wesker. It was his time... His time and no one—

The sudden ring of the phone pushed Chris out of his Zen-like state, and he felt as if he had been dumped into a bucket of ice cold water, heart jumping in his chest. Sitting up quickly, the water slapped against the side of the tub and a few drops threatening to fall over the edge and onto the bathmat. Growling as the ringing continued, he decided he had spent enough time soaking anyways and got out of the bathtub, pulling the plug as he did so. Stepping out, he grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist before hurrying to the phone. Grabbing it on the last ring,

Chris brought it to his ear, only to hear a pre-recorded message about how he had won a vacation from a draw he hadn't even entered.

Pulling it away from his ear, Chris eyed the white receiver before placing it back in its cradle, once again pissed off. For a moment he began to understand what it must feel like to be a woman on her period. Last night he was angry, upset, in pain, and frightened. In the morning he became happy, in love, and completely content, only to feel sudden reservations and fear once again as reality sank in.

Then the bath came, putting him back in the game. He had been ready to serve as back-up for the mission. But this stupid missed call threw him off again, making him storm around his apartment, gathering his clothes, brushing his teeth, and shaving all at the same time. He needed to get out of this place or he'd start to go crazy with his own thoughts. Entering the bedroom, he noticed that the bed was still messy from their coupling; a large stain was in the middle of the sheets from their previous activities. For some reason it bothered him more than usual.

Ripping them off of the bed, he stuffed the white sheets into the laundry hamper and moved to change the covers on the pillows before pausing. Taking the pillow Wesker had used last night, he brought it up to his nose and took in a short breath, smelling Wesker's cologne and musk on the fabric, mixed with the slightest scent of Chris' shampoo. Fiddling with the corner of the pillow, Chris looked at the laundry hamper, back at the bed, then back at the laundry hamper. His sheets didn't have to match his pillows, he decided before tossing the pillow back on top of the mattress.

Pulling his socks on, Chris sat on the edge of the mattress and once again thought of Wesker's face as he climaxed. God, he was gorgeous... sensual... handsome. Maybe Wesker would come over tonight after the mission was done and Bravo team returned. Maybe they could sleep, and then have a proper morning together. Chris would even buy him breakfast and they could start from scratch—rebuild the pieces that had crumbled on the day he'd broken it off with Wesker.

Maybe, maybe, maybe. Chris was sick of maybes. No, tonight he was going to tell Wesker—tell him he was in love with him. Screw nurturing and holding onto the feeling. He had been in love with Wesker for months but refused to admit it. Now was the time to tell him.

But what if Wesker didn't feel the same way...?

In the back of his mind, Chris told himself that he didn't care if Wesker felt it or not, that what mattered was letting Wesker know his own personal feelings. If he knew, then they could re-build a proper relationship. That was, if Wesker wanted to. But at the front of his mind and in his heart, Chris had a feeling that Wesker didn't or wouldn't return those feelings. Wesker was dedicated to his work and to himself—no one else really mattered. Although at times he felt a little more tenderness and sensitivity from Wesker, he had never really felt _love_.

Wesker desired him and that he enjoyed having him around... But he never felt like he was needed like Chris needed him. It hurt, to realize that.

But he still loved Wesker... He loved him quite a bit. He knew he was a fool but he had to tell Wesker, despite knowing he probably didn't feel the same way. He was going to tell him soon—he had to. Standing up, Chris gave his ruffled up bed one more look before leaving his apartment, still desperate to get out and _do_ something.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

He ended up going into work anyways, despite not needing to be in until seven when Bravo team would need help gearing up. The RPD was still tense, but knowing that STARS was going in to investigate the murders seemed to soothe a lot of people's nerves. While the occasional glare was sent here and there, unnecessary verbal disagreements were had, and a few fights had broken out, things were calming down. It felt as if everything was going back to normal, slowly but surely. Chris had begun to feel a little better about going into work, even though the last few weeks had been hell on account of Wesker. But now that Wesker was back in his life and the mission might be coming to a close soon, he didn't feel like an anvil was constantly above him, waiting to drop upon his head as soon as he stepped into the building.

No, now he felt like the anvil was only _sometimes_ over his head threatening to drop at a moment's notice. It was an improvement.

Going to the STARS office, Chris wasn't surprised to see no one in, all of them having taken the day off that had been offered to them. Wesker had been unusually kind in letting them take the day off, but he realized why. Bravo team was going in at night, and there was no telling how long they'd be there for. If Wesker's indications were correct, everyone would be up until the early morning and he couldn't have any of his men suffer from sleep deprivation while on the job.

Walking over to his desk, Chris sat down and opened the bottom drawer, the wood squeaking against the sides of the desk as he did so. Pushing past papers, a few sticks of gum, a packet of cigarettes, and a pen that had a naked chick on it, Chris managed to find his little green journal, and tossed it up on his desk before grabbing one of the sticks of gum. Shutting the drawer, he unwrapped the gum from its foil cover and stuffed it in his mouth before opening his journal, running his hands along the sheets that had been filled. Feeling his own writing under his fingertips, Chris didn't have to re-read it all to realize how depressing he had been on the pages. He felt a little ashamed and pitiful reading through a few passages and seeing how emotionally unstable he had been thanks to Wesker.

Deciding to make a new entry that was less depressing and more uplifting, Chris began to scribble the date on a new sheet of paper, a blank canvas.

_July 23__rd__, 1998..._

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

Snapping his attention up from his journal when he heard a familiar voice, Chris smiled at Richard while he strode into the office, the new girl trailing behind... Rebecca was her name, right?

"Nothing, what about you?" he asked, casually shutting his book.

"I was bored and decided to come over. Rebecca was already here practicing in the shooting range when I came down," Richard explained, smiling as the two of them came to stand close to Chris.

Chris eyed Rebecca's arms for a second, wondering if she'd even be able to shoot a basic 9mm handgun before shrugging. "Couldn't just sit at home either, hey?"

"Too much excitement to look forward to tonight." Shrugging, Richard grabbed Jill's chair and pulled it to the side so he could sit down while Rebecca continued to stand awkwardly to the side, her small fingers playing with the hem of her shirt.

"Why don't you sit down, too?" Chris said to her, causing her to smile slightly. "Barry's desk is free—just don't look through the top drawer. I suspect he left a sandwich in there by accident and hasn't opened it in fear of what might creep out."

"Right, sir," she said, going to sit down in the chair. She looked ridiculously small in it.

"So what do you think of Kevin?" Richard asked.

"Huh? Oh, Kevin, the new pilot, right? I guess he's all right, I haven't spoken to him much," Chris said, pushing his journal under a few sheets of paper. Rebecca seemed to notice, but didn't say anything as Richard remained oblivious.

"I still find it strange that we have so many pilots for the helicopters. It's thrown me off a little."

"Really?" Chris asked, finding he shared similar feelings, despite not being part of Bravo team. Ever since Joseph joined, things felt too shaken up, but it wasn't anything desperately strange.

Pursing his lips, Richard looked at the clock before speaking. "I don't know... I just have a weird feeling about tonight. I guess I'm just getting excited. How are you feeling, Rebecca?"

"Good," she squeaked out, almost too quickly. She blushed a little at the end and once again went to play with the hem of her shirt. "Nervous, too."

"Don't be, you'll be fine. You're a good shot and it's not likely you'll need to use your gun. You're the medic so patch me up if I need it, all right?"

Smiling, Rebecca nodded and went to look at Chris before turning her attention back to Richard. "Y-yeah, I will."

Rebecca was too jumpy, Chris decided. And too small. And too young.

He still had no idea what Wesker had been thinking when he hired her—she looked like a liability.

"So, Chris... I heard you're the best shot of the group," Rebecca said, obviously trying to make conversation with him.

"Tell Forest that and he'd kill you," Chris joked, smiling a little. In the back of his mind all he could think about was his feelings for Wesker and how damn nervous he was to tell him, but tried to prevent his mind from wandering around too much. Although Chris' lack of conversation must have put Rebecca out, because she sat back a little and once again went to fiddle with her shirt, taking Chris' quiet for a lack of manners.

He was just about to say something else to make up for his silence, but Jill walked into the room and all thoughts about easing the tension with Rebecca were gone.

"What is it with the Captain and pie?" Jill said as she entered the office, civilian clothing on.

Richard made a curious sound, and turned around in his chair, waiting for some elaboration of her statement. "I was just in the break room and opened one of the fridges in there to see a little container with a piece of lemon meringue pie in it, and a sticky note was stuck to the top. On it, it said 'Wesker's—Don't Touch. I Mean It.'"

Richard let out a mirthful laugh, and Chris couldn't help but smile himself.

"God, I love him," Chris whispered under his breath, shaking his head. Returning his attention to the real world, he saw Rebecca give him a strange look he couldn't read, before Richard spoke, snapping them both out of whatever had occurred between them.

"Hey, feel like a game of cards?"

Furrowing his brow, Chris waited until Rebecca changed her expression before nodding slowly, her gaze avoiding his own once again. "Sure, a game of cards sounds like a good idea."

Rebecca was a strange one, that was for sure.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Chris wasn't too terribly surprised to see more and more STARS members show up throughout the afternoon. They simply kept the card games going until they had to pile three sets of decks together so everyone could play a game of Go Fish. It all got terribly complicated, and by the end of it, Chris was actually happy to see Wesker and Enrico show up to break up the mini-party. After cleaning up the office and setting things straight, most of Alpha team stayed in the office to set up the communications desk, but Chris found himself going down with Wesker to the gun locker room, joining Bravo team as they geared up.

"You better not tell me ridiculous jokes over the radio," Forest said as he checked his grenade launcher over, a weapon Chris found totally impractical for the situation.

"They don't let me near the system anymore. Not after what I said over the radio during that Bringingham and Co. case we had a while back." Chris had, at some point, snatched the radio from Richard when Forest dared him to, and told Wesker through his headset that he liked his ass in those combat pants of his. Chris, of course, did like how his ass looked in those pants, but he made it sound like a joke to hide his true feelings.

Wesker, to say the least, was not impressed. He was yelled at in front of everyone and banned from using the radio system. Later on, behind closed doors, he was also 'punished' in another way. He couldn't sit properly for a week after that little adventure.

Pausing, Forest placed the launcher on his lap and stared off, a small smile on his lips. "Ah, yes, that time... I remember it fondly." Winking, Forest slapped Chris' chest gently with his hand before standing up, resting the gun over his shoulder.

"Are you all prepared?" Wesker asked, stopping the idle chatter that was going on in the room.

Everyone replied with confidence, and Chris couldn't help but get excited even though he wasn't going out there. It was time Bravo team had their moment to shine, and seeing them getting ready in such a professional manner made him realize they were just as good as Alpha team—maybe better. After all, they were always considered the second group—the backup or the less experienced ones, and yet they never complained. And most of the time they got the job done without a hitch, something Alpha team would be proud of as well if not for their own slip-ups over the months. Chris _still_ thought of the day Wesker was shot.

"Good," Wesker replied, throwing the door of the locker room open, indicating it was go time. Heading up to the roof with Bravo team, Chris paused on the second floor and decided to head back to the office before the helicopter took off. Despite being a pilot, the sound of the turbines on the helicopter gave Chris a headache more often than not.

"I'll see you later, all right?" he said, nudging Forest's arm as they parted ways.

"Yeah, and remember: no radio for you," he said, winking before passing, his grenade launcher catching the light for a second, giving his wink and grin an entirely cartoony appearance.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, waving Forest off before opening the door to one of the main hallways. Nodding to Edward, Chris wished him luck and smiled at Richard before leaving the already too cramped hallway.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Chris shrugged off the tingling feeling in his spine and the palms of his hands, and walked to the STARS office, glancing out one of the windows as he passed to see how dark it already was.

Opening the door to the office, Chris flopped down on his chair and propped his feet up on the desk, his back to Barry and Joseph as they fiddled with the recording devices.

"Did you see them off all right?" Barry asked, voice a little distant as he plugged headphones into what he hoped was the headphone jack.

"Yup," Chris simply replied.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Couldn't sit still for too long either, huh?"

Chris could see Wesker's back stiffen slightly, his relaxed posture taking on an air of tension as he continued to stare out across the city, his hands resting on the ledge of the RPD's roof.

"No... The office is too crowded with all of you in it," Wesker replied, his voice soft compared to the sound of the street below. Moving to stand beside him, Chris nodded, his short fingernails digging into the palm of his hand as he tried to ease his nerves. Bravo team had been gone for about fifteen minutes when he began to grow antsy sitting in the office. Joseph and Barry were covering the first part of the communication shift, and the rest of Alpha team was left sitting around, trying to feel useful but failing.

Wesker had spent about three minutes in the office, casually sitting in his chair before he got up without a word and headed out. Chris tried not to let Wesker's abrupt exit excite him too much, but his nerves got the better of him. If he could catch Wesker alone now, maybe he could tell him right away. Tell him he loved him and get it out of the way.

Because try as he might, he just could not focus on anything but Wesker...

"How did you know I would be here?" Wesker asked after a time just as Chris' throat became dry.

"Just figured it's quiet up here now that the helicopters aren't being worked on," Chris mumbled, resting his hip against the small wall so he could see Wesker on one side, and the spot where they shared their second kiss if he turned ever so slightly on the other.

Wesker simply hummed, his stance never changing as he continued to look out across the city. He seemed like his usual stoic self, but after sharing that moment with him that morning, Chris couldn't help but see him as a different man—a new man. They both had changed, and Chris could see it on Wesker. He hoped Wesker could see the changes he had brought to Chris as well.

"So... did you maybe want to come over tonight, after the mission? I was thinking in the morning we could talk and—" Chris began, trying not to sound like a fool. Only Wesker cut him off before he could say anything more, his voice sharp.

"Chris, stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Stop trying to make things all right between us. You've been treading around me all day because of this morning like I'm a delicate piece of china. I'm already terribly sick of it."

"O-oh..." Frowning, Chris turned away from Wesker slightly, wondering what the hell to say. Wesker beat him to the punch, though.

"I knew what I was doing this morning, and I do not regret it, so stop troubling yourself over it. If I know anything about you, I know how you worry yourself sick over situations you can't control. So I am telling you now, I am fine." The entire time Wesker said this, he never once looked at Chris, his expression that of a statue as he continued to stare out at the city, the lights reflecting off of his sunglasses.

Well, at least he pretty much told Chris to stop worrying. That was a start... A good start. Chris could stop worrying and... No, no, he couldn't. He still hadn't told him what he really needed to tell him.

Thumping his fist gently on the cement wall a couple of times, Chris felt the rough stone jump against his skin, and he followed it up by flattening his hand, sliding it against the wall until it was close to Wesker's own. Moving to stare out at the city with Wesker, he took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind.

If he told him now—tonight on this day—then he would be ready to move on. Whether that be with or without Wesker. He was ready.

"Wesker... I have something to tell you," he began, voice strong despite his knees threatening to give in on him. "And I don't want you to say anything, because I just need to say it."

Taking a deep breath, Chris felt Wesker shift beside him, but didn't turn to look at him. Taking another breath, he began to feel his resolve breaking, the thoughts of how Wesker would never—could never—love him back surfacing to the forefront. He couldn't get the words to come out... He just couldn't do it.

"Christopher?"

Wesker's voice snapped him out of his daze, his body suddenly moving as Wesker touched his shoulder. "What is it you wanted to say?"

Turning to look at Wesker, Chris opened and closed his mouth a few times as his mind screamed at him to say it was nothing, that he was just trying to fill the silence. But Wesker didn't seem to want to wait for an explanation, and instead moved to kiss him slowly, his thin lips gently pressing against Chris' own.

Trying to stop himself from shaking, Chris reached out to cup Wesker's jaw, pressing back. Parting his mouth, Chris felt Wesker's lips catch his bottom lip in a soft kiss, before a gentle nibble was applied, making him open his mouth further.

Pressing himself close, Chris closed his mind off from everything, and simply eased into the familiar and yet still exciting motion of kissing Wesker... Kissing the man he loved. It didn't last for too long, but it was enough to ease Chris' fears and make him do something rash. Breaking the kiss, Chris let out a soft puff of air, his lips tingling as he stared into the black frames he'd become so accustomed to.

"I'm in love with you."

There. He had said it. The ball was in Wesker's court, and Chris told himself he was ready for whatever he had to throw at him. He could feel his body stiffen, the softness on his features disappearing quickly—and Chris held on believing he was going to be okay even though Wesker was pulling away, his thin fingers sliding off of his arms with that graceful ease they always possessed.

"I don't expect you to feel the same way, Wesker... I never did. But I wanted you to know this—tell you how I felt so that maybe we could—maybe we could move on or grow apart. Either way, I think I needed to tell you," he said, explaining himself even though he didn't think he needed to.

Wesker continued to stay silent, his attention once again returning to the city skyline. Maybe he needed time to think? Maybe he needed to be alone for a bit... think things through like Chris did this morning. Tapping his fingers against his thigh, Chris watched Wesker for a moment longer before biting his bottom lip. "I'm going... I'm going to go back down to the office. I'll... I'll let you be," he said, moving away from Wesker. Heading towards the door, he spared Wesker one last look and noticed he had turned completely to stare out at the city, his back to him.

Sighing softly, he opened the door and went back to the office, his footsteps heavy in his head. He wanted to sleep, to just collapse and not wake up for a few years. Taking in a shaky breath, he continued to convince himself that Wesker just needed time to think and contemplate, and that his silence was not a bad sign, but simply a sign that would take a little longer for Chris to comprehend himself.

Opening the door to the STARS office, he closed it softly, staring at his shoes for a time before composing himself enough to look up at his fellow teammates. He was worried they might see the sudden apprehension and sadness in his features, but was surprised to see worried looks on all of their faces.

"What's wrong?" Chris asked, moving forward.

Barry seemed hesitant to answer before he replied, voice low. "We've lost contact with Bravo team."

* * *

_I know this is a terrible time to go on a hiatus, but... well, that's the way the cookie crumbles. But hopefully you'll all sit tight and wait it out, and the next chapter will be worth it! And I want to thank you guys for all of the support you've given me- I really, really appreciate it. Also, your reaction to the latest chapter was awesome, but to those of you who were hesitant about bottom!Wesker please keep in mind Wesker has a reason for everything he does... BUT I LOVE YOU ALL! Have a good few weeks! _


	38. Waiting

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note: **I am back! Did you miss me? Well I missed talking to you guys, and I also missed updating the story. Although when I was supposed to be taking a break I ended up writing you guys some other mini-stories. Check them out if you're so inclined. Anyways, I have some** IMPORTANT INFORMATION SO PLEASE READ: **I was speaking to a few friends of mine about the size of SoF, and we all agreed that it is getting far too big. So what I plan on doing it splitting this story up into two different stories - There will be SoF which will go up to chapter 45, and then there will be it's sequel which will go from where SoF ended, all the way up to the events of RE5. **So SoF will be broken up into two parts. **This does NOT mean the story is done at chapter 45 when I put the 'complete' sticker next to the story. This just means that this part of the story is done and the sequel will begin shortly. Think of it like Lord of the Rings or something. Hopefully this makes sense! _  
_

* * *

**Chapter 39- Waiting**

_We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us. ~Joseph Campbell _

"We are to wait twenty-four hours."

"What?" Jumping up from his chair, Chris stared down Wesker, his mouth open in shock at what he had just said. "Twenty-four hours?"

"Yes, that is what I just said."

"That's not right," Barry said, shaking his head slowly, lips pursed in a tight hold as he stared at his desk.

Sighing, Wesker stuffed his hands in his pants pockets, eyebrows furrowed. "I'm sorry, but there is nothing I can do."

"No, no, we are not waiting twenty-four fucking hours to go in and find Bravo team. That is absolutely fucking stupid!" Chris cried out, his voice loud and overbearing in the small office. After Wesker had been alerted about the loss of contact with Bravo team, he left for a short moment to discuss matters with Chief Irons, who had stayed late alongside them. Chris was sure— hell, everyone was sure—Wesker would get them out and in full operation moments after he spoke to Irons.

Bravo team could be in trouble, and if that was the case, then they would need all the help they could get. But instead, Wesker returned and casually told them they would leave in a day. No explanation as to why, just that that was the way things were going.

"And may I remind you that you are not in a position to make orders and criticise your superiors, Chris," Wesker said, his mouth tight, thin lips drawn close against his teeth as he reined in his temper.

Shaking his head, Chris let out a frustrated sigh, and was about to say something before shaking his head again. "You know this is wrong," he said, pointing at Wesker before bouncing his hand. "You know damn well this is wrong."

"Maybe we should wait," Brad mumbled, his shoulders hunched over as he leaned his torso on top of his desk.

"Wait, what?" Turning, everyone stared at Brad, making him look up from his desk.

"I said maybe we should wait. We don't know what's out there… Besides, we all know radio contact in Raccoon Forest is shifty at best. We lose contact and reception out there all the time, and just because this was an important mission doesn't mean they've fallen victim to some accident." What Brad had to say made a little sense to Chris, but it didn't take away from the anxiety and slight panic he was feeling. Bravo team was missing, and nothing would ease his mind until he could see them safe and all right. He got the impression everyone felt the same.

"For once, I agree with you Chickenheart," Joseph said, taking his bandana off to toss onto Chris' desk. "I mean… I don't like waiting, but we don't know what's going on down there, and rushing into a situation is going to get us nowhere."

"Good," Wesker stated, his voice tense despite his seemingly relaxed posture. "I expect there will no longer be an argument about this? There is nothing we can do at this time, so I suggest you all get some rest and come back here at nine. From there we will try and get all the information we can gather and set out in search of them if we have not heard back."

Nodding, there were a few 'yes Captain's mixed in for good measure before Wesker removed his hand from his pocket and curled his finger to indicate Chris should come with him. Deciding to follow Wesker, he left the office and shut the door, the click of the latch loud in the abandoned hallway. Despite the RPD being open every day and at all hours, it felt eerily quiet tonight.

"What's up?" he asked, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets as Wesker went to stand near the window, his gaze once again leaving Chris.

"You seemed upset in there. I need to make sure you're completely with me and the team. This could be important and I need unity." Turning his attention to Chris, Wesker removed his sunglasses and locked eyes with him. "I need you to have my back."

"Of course," Chris said without really thinking about it. Despite the sudden crisis with STARS, he still had what he told Wesker up on the roof in the back of his mind. Wesker still hadn't said anything, but he didn't expect him to; there were more pressing matters at hand. But if Wesker asked for his trust, then he was going to give it to him. This wasn't just for him, either—this was for Bravo team.

"Good, I am glad to hear it," he said, placing his sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose. "You all should go home and rest—try not to worry too much."

Nodding, Chris let Wesker walk a little ways away before reaching out to grab him, stumbling a little as he did so. Wrapping his fingers around his arm, Chris tugged him back, preventing him from leaving.

"Where are you going?" he asked, a little too quickly.

"I have matters to attend to."

"Didn't you just say we needed rest?"

"Yes, I did, but I do not have the luxury of such rest as your captain." Gently prying Chris off of him, Wesker rolled his shoulder back and turned his attention to the end of the hallway before continuing on his way.

"Will you come to my place later tonight?" he called, realizing he sounded desperate but not really caring. God damn, was this day ever stressful.

"No, I won't be done for some time. Goodnight, Christopher."

Leaving Chris by the STARS office, Wesker left at a brisk, purposeful pace, and Chris couldn't help but want to punch himself for his desperate, slightly laughable behaviour. His friends could be in trouble, and here he was freaking out that Wesker didn't like him anymore. Shaking his head to clear such frivolous thoughts, he returned to the office to see his teammates with all of their stuff ready to go, but no one looking particularly inclined to leave.

"I don't know how he expects us to just relax and sleep tonight," Jill said, hands in her lap as she sat in her chair. It appeared as if she had run her hands through her hair multiple times.

"We're going to have to. It's not like we can do anything," Barry said, his attention turning to Chris as he walked back into the room, shutting the door behind him. "What did Wesker want?"

"Just to make sure I would calm down. Guess my run-ins with authority have finally scared him," Chris said, trying to joke with them. No one laughed, though, and they continued to sit together in the office for some time, none of them wishing to leave just yet. Even they could begin to feel the cracks in the framework.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Chris and the rest of Alpha team ended up staying together for some time at the office, trying to convince themselves everything was going to be all right. They tried a few more times to see if they could make contact, but decided they really needed to rest and left for the evening. Unfortunately for Chris, he was part of the unlucky majority who got little sleep—his mind too caught up with negative thoughts about what was going on to get a good night's rest. It probably wasn't anything serious and perhaps Bravo team would show up in the morning… But he knew he was lying to himself. He could feel it in his gut.

The more he thought it over and played with certain scenarios, the more and more the prospect of Bravo team being fine seemed unlikely. He kept getting images of a burnt-out helicopter with the bodies of Bravo team littered around like rag dolls inside his head every time he closed his eyes, and a few times had to get up and wash his face to dispel the horrific images that haunted him throughout the night. But in the morning when he returned to the office, he pushed past all of the negative ideas and thoughts he had, and went to work. He had to be professional about this (despite being scared shitless) and worked on keeping himself cool, calm, and collected. It helped that everyone else seemed to have the same outlook… everyone except for Brad, of course.

"T-this is not good," Brad mumbled, his face deathly pale as they stood in the gun locker room, their weapons being checked over a few times as they prepared to take off. There was still no sign of Bravo team in the morning, and Wesker finally had permission to order them out in an active search for them. They had done as much research into the matter as they possibly could, finding when contact was lost, what area they would most likely be in, and if the area had a tendency to lose radio contact. Chris had heard that the forests surrounding Mount Fuji in Japan had a certain kind of rock in it that prevented radio devices from being heard. Maybe that's what was going on? If that was the case, he was going to personally destroy every single radio-disrupting rock on the planet for giving him such a heart attack.

Of course Wesker was staying calm throughout the entire ordeal, and Chris began to wonder what he was thinking. Was he just as worried as everyone else, or did he have more confidence in Bravo team than the rest of his teammates did? He was being unusually quiet the entire time, and often let Barry take over when it came to planning the possible rescue procedure they would employ. Perhaps Wesker really was thinking about giving Barry control of Bravo team? Chris didn't have time to dwell on such thoughts, though, for Brad was stumbling down the hallway as they went back to the office to pick up the last few items they needed, his shoulder sliding against the wall as he sagged downwards.

"Are you all right, Brad?" Jill asked, touching his shoulder gently as he let out a soft moan, arms clutching his stomach.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine… j-just a little nervous. M-maybe I ate something bad," he mumbled, face suddenly turning green.

Barry was standing beside Chris, and he could see the concern mixed with displeasure on his face as he watched Brad suddenly dry heave.

"Go to the washroom—now," Wesker barked out, pushing Brad down the hallway towards the men's restroom. The jolt seemed to have knocked something in Brad, and Chris hoped he made it to the toilet in time as the sudden sound of vomit could be heard behind the door.

"Gross," Joseph mumbled under his breath, eyebrows furrowed.

"Is he going to be all right to fly?" Jill asked, her fingers twitching near her gun. Chris knew what she was thinking—he was going to bolt.

"Fucking chicken," Joseph grumbled, and Chris had to agree.

Scuffing his boot against the floor, Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's going to bolt."

"Don't say that," Jill said sharply, her tone harsh and quick. "He's not going to bolt, and if you say that he will."

"You all need to have faith in Vickers," Wesker drawled out, his attention leaving the wall behind Chris as Brad returned from the washroom, a wet paper towel in his hands as he pressed it against his forehead.

"Will you be all right?" Wesker asked.

"Y-yeah, sorry about that," he said, nodding to Wesker before he turned and continued on their journey through the RPD.

"They're probably fine," Joseph said, trying to lighten the mood. "We keep imagining a helicopter crash, but they probably got caught up in the case and found themselves out of range for the radio systems. They're probably waiting for us to show up and help them arrest those fuckers."

While he explained all of this, they finally made it back to the office, the florescent lights making everyone look a little too pale. "Will you be quiet?" Chris asked, his voice tired as he looked over his shoulder at Joseph.

"Hey, I'm just trying to keep everyone fucking calm," he said, completely ruining any sense of 'peace' they had before.

"Stop it—it's not fucking working," Chris said, suddenly getting angry at the situation. What the fuck was going on? How come Bravo team hadn't contacted them at all? Why wouldn't Joseph just shut up?

"I think you need to calm the fuck down, Chris," Joseph said, moving closer into Chris' personal space.

Puffing himself up a little, Chris stared Joseph down, the tension from everything getting the better of him as he prepared to let out all his frustration on the first person who got in his way. "You kept talking and when I told you to shut the fuck up, _you_ got defensive. I don't give a shit if they're all right, what I give a shit about is if they're going to be all right!"

So much for being professional.

"What the hell is your fucking problem, Chris?" Joseph yelled, eyes wide. "I think you need to get that giant dick up your ass out and once again calm the fuck down."

Going red in the face, Chris thought he heard Jill telling them both to calm down in the background, but didn't listen as he moved to strike Joseph, his frustration and anger finally taking over, ruling his emotions and actions once again. But just as he was about to strike, he felt a strong hand grasp his shoulder, pulling him back roughly. Slamming into a hard chest, Chris stumbled a little and glanced over his shoulder to see Wesker standing there, nostrils flared. "Christopher… calm down. Remember what I asked of you yesterday?"

Pulling away from Wesker roughly, Chris cracked his neck to the side, the anger leaving him as quickly as it came. Suddenly he felt foolish and brash. He acted on gut feelings and with little filter between what he wanted to do and what he should do. Wesker has asked him last night to keep it together, and here he was trying to further break open those cracks. "Sorry," he said, the tips of his ears going pink as he turned his attention back to Joseph.

Waving his hand, Joseph shrugged. "Don't worry… Guess we're all a little tense."

Nodding, Chris figured Joseph could say that again as Wesker went to the front of the office, his back to the STARS emblem as he addressed his team.

"As you all know, Bravo team has been unaccounted for, for the past twenty-three hours. They were dispatched to investigate a specific area deep inside Raccoon Forest; an area that, unfortunately, is incredibly easy to find oneself lost in. Once again, I would like to reiterate the importance of sticking together. While searching for our lost compatriots, I urge you all to push aside the fear and anxiety you feel, and treat this case as any other—do not let your emotions get in the way," Wesker stated, his arms crossed over his chest, legs spread wide to give him a confident, almost serene manner about him. Chris found himself relaxing just watching Wesker speak so confidently, so assured. Wesker was going to be his rock for this mission, Chris could feel it.

"Brad will be manning the helicopter, and Chris, you'll be in charge of most of the scout work. See if you can find any signs of a helicopter landing or a crash site. We'll be following the route that Bravo team was assigned; near the railroad tracks that snake through the forest. Stay alert, stay sharp, and don't panic no matter what you see. Prepare for the worst, and hopefully things will work out for the best."

Chris couldn't help but smile softly, suddenly feeling so much better about everything. He had nothing to worry about. No matter what happened, he had Alpha team with him, and they were all going to support each other in the worst case scenario. And Wesker's strangely encouraging words made him feel a little… secure. Safe and stable.

Unfortunately, Wesker had to ruin it. "If one of you dies, I am not dragging your body back to the helicopter. Now, move out."

Giving Wesker a lazy salute, Chris waited for everyone else to march out and head up to the roof before he made move to leave himself, Wesker trailing behind before he was stopped by his voice. "Chris, come here."

Turning around, he spared one last glance at the door to see Barry pause, an eyebrow raised before Wesker waved him off. Heading off with the rest of Alpha team, Barry left him and Wesker alone for a time.

"What is it?" he asked, getting antsy just waiting around. Wesker's pep talk made him ready for action.

Moving to stand behind his desk, Wesker's delicate fingers locked around the brown leather knife sheath, running along the length of it before picking it up. "You almost forgot this."

Snapping out of the trance he'd been put under, Chris realized that it was indeed his knife sheath—his knife sheath that was currently holding his combat knife. Laughing softly, he moved to claim it, and was about to thank Wesker before he was pulled forward, lips pressing against his quickly, preventing him from forming any sort of intelligent response.

Caught a little off guard, Chris stiffened for a second, and only started to move with Wesker when Wesker cupped his cheek with his hand, his thumb pressed against his cheekbone. Enjoying the kiss, he tilted his head a little and let himself get lost. They would go in, find Bravo team, come back, and then sleep. In the morning, Chris and Wesker would go out for breakfast (his treat) and they would work things out. Despite the heavy weight on his shoulders, Chris found everything looking up as they kissed in front of the large STARS emblem.

Pulling away after a time, Chris let their lips brush gently before he spoke. "Thanks for the knife."

He could feel Wesker smirk against his lips, and wanted to go in for another kiss before Wesker pulled away, the sudden warmth they'd been sharing leaving Chris. "We should go before the rest of them come looking for us." Nodding, Chris took the knife sheath from Wesker and strapped it onto his vest before following Wesker out, their hands brushing occasionally as they headed for the roof. Once they arrived, the helicopter was already up and running and the two of them had to hurry on board.

"It's show time," Joseph said over the sound of the chopper, and Chris gave him a thumbs up response. It certainly was.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"See anything, Chris?" Wesker asked after a time. They had been flying around the forest in search of their missing compatriots for quite a while now, and they were all starting to lose hope of any sign of them. They followed the path Bravo team had marked out beforehand, but hadn't seen any sign of them as they traveled along it. A few times Brad circled around the area hoping to see a clue of sorts, but nothing popped up. And so they decided to just go to the mansion's area in hopes of seeing something… anything.

Trying to hold back the increasingly dark mood that had taken over all of them, Chris kept his attention out the side of the helicopter, letting nothing distract him while his eyes began to sting as the cool wind from outside glided across them. He tried his hardest not to blink in fear that if he did, he would miss something crucial. But he didn't have to look too hard as they grew closer to the mansion. Feeling Jill shake his shoulder, Chris shrugged her off as she said something about looking ahead.

There, in the middle of a clearing, was a pitiful but still visible trail of smoke coming up from what appeared to be a helicopter—a helicopter that did not have a very good landing.

"There, over there," Chris said, fumbling with his compass to give Brad the direction of the smoke trail. Brad seemed to have seen it despite not being able to see his frantic pointing, though, and circled around the crash site, a spot light being shined around it to give them all a better look.

"Can you see any life?" Barry called out, and Chris had to shake his head. There was nothing down there… no life at all.

He didn't know what was going on, but the next thing he knew they were descending, Wesker obviously having told Brad to find a place to land. Taking his time, Brad looked for a clearing nearby, and Chris wished he could push all the trees aside himself so they could stop and get the hell down there. When they finally did land a little ways away, Chris was the first to jump out, his feet hitting the uneven ground, twigs snapping under his weight. Everyone else waited until the helicopter had been turned off before leaving the aircraft. He pulled his gun out, senses heightened in the now deadly silent woods.

"Chris and Barry, you come with me and we'll secure the area. Brad, stay with the helicopter, and Joseph and Jill—head in the direction of the other helicopter, but be _vigilant_," Wesker ordered, his head jerking to the side in the direction of the helicopter.

"Right, Captain," Jill said, giving him a brisk salute as she and Joseph moved forward, the light on Joseph's shotgun illuminating a small distance ahead of them. There was a thick fog that ran along the ground, snaking through the trees and clinging to everything, giving the forest a soft, muted appearance. A thunderstorm was also rolling in, and Chris could smell the ozone in the air. Ozone and… another smell; a dangerous, pungent smell that stuck to the back of his tongue like a dead weight. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. Something was terribly wrong.

A rumble off in the distance seemed to have snapped everyone away from watching Jill and Joseph disappear into the shadows, and Wesker began moving forward, the three of them making a protective circle as they covered each other's backs, guns drawn. Chris didn't know what they were looking for, but something told him not to put his gun down for even a second. Bracing his left hand above his right, he flicked on his flashlight, seeing that Wesker and Barry had done the same.

"What are we looking for?" Chris asked after a time, the rumble of thunder getting closer.

"Signs…" Wesker said, voice low and soft.

Of life or death?

The only sound that could be heard in the forest was that of the twigs snapping under their feet, and the occasionally stone as it rolled along the ground and the bottom of a combat boot. Chris' own breathing was the loudest thing in the almost suffocating silence, and he concentrated on the sound of his slow exhales and inhales.

But that was before the blood-curdling scream rang through the forest, bouncing off the trees and landing on all three of them like a shock to the system.

And then the gunshots started… and stopped. As quickly as it had come, the sound was once again enveloped by deadly silence.

* * *

_Alright... I'll be the first to admit that this chapter was filler and kind of lame. Unfortunately I could not add this to the next chapter because it would be too long, but at the same time this chapter needed to be included in order to have a proper transition between chapter 37 and 39. So I'm sorry this one was so short and kind of lame, but like I said I couldn't see a viable way around it! **But I promise you guys next update will be the mansion incident- I promise! **Please stick around for that! Anyways, once again sorry for the short, filler chapter, but I think I make up for it in the next couple of chapters! _


	39. Death

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Violence, Character death_

**Authors Note: **Here it is, ladies and gents. The mansion incident Part 1. Enjoy._  
_

* * *

**Chapter 39- Death**

_A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own. ~_Thomas Mann~

He was lost.

He had turned a corner and come across another dead end—another locked door. He tried to convince himself that he was on the right track, and if he just turned another corner he would come to the right place. To a haven among all of the terror he was experiencing. But that corner that had meant so much to his well-being turned out to once again harbour a demon—a walking, shambling, corpse.

The stench of death was overwhelming in the mansion, and he felt sick and disgusted. When he shot that first bullet, when it sprayed the rotting brain matter of that person—no, no, they weren't people anymore, they were monsters, stop giving them a face—against the wall, Chris wanted to be sick. He wanted to vomit up whatever was left in his stomach as the body fell, and despite trying to disconnect from what he had done, he couldn't help but think he had killed a person.

But those things… those zombies. They killed without regret. Their lives had become nothing more than a shell of an existence, one that had no mercy, no regrets. There was no mercy given to Kenneth. Or Joseph. Or even Edward and Kevin.

Would they show mercy towards Jill and Wesker? What about Barry? God damn it, where was everyone?

They had split up, but Chris hadn't counted on getting so terribly lost and separated from everyone. He had been asked to investigate the gunshot after… after those dogs. This place was supposed to be a safe place from the horrors outside; but it had all turned into one disgusting, reality-based nightmare.

When he had seen Kenneth's body being destroyed, devoured by that creature, Chris panicked, his mind telling him to run and never come back. But he froze, and watched as the creature turned on him, its flesh hanging off of its face, the lips pulled back, showing teeth covered in the blood of his friend, a horrible, horrible smile permanently etched upon its face…

He tried to reach for his gun, but realized in that instance that he had dropped it—forgot it outside with the rest of those creatures when he had run out of bullets trying to save Jill. Jesus Christ, that was stupid. He let everything get to him and almost got killed because of it.

He had managed to get away in time and headed back to meet Jill and Wesker, only they had gone missing as well. All that was left was Jill's custom STARS gun from Kendo's gun shop. Deciding that finding Jill and Wesker was the best solution, Chris had tried to push past the blinding terror he felt every time he thought of his fallen comrades, and stumbled about the dark hallways in the maze-like mansion, desperately trying to keep himself together as he killed those creatures when they got too close.

Did their families know what had become of them? What would happen if he got bit? Would he, too, succumb to whatever it was they had been infected with? It almost physically hurt him to pull the trigger on a face that once smiled, once laughed and talked, cried and displayed emotions. But he had to do it—it was kill or be killed, and Chris was not going down without a fight.

Despite the agony he felt, there were little things here and there that eased some of his worries. As he worked his way around, discovering rooms and orienting himself, he found a few magnum shells in the hallway, and recognized that they belonged to Barry's prized gun. He was still alive… for now. Taking out another zombie, Chris stepped over the body carefully, and pressed himself against the door at the end of the L-shaped corridor, listening for signs of life… or death. Hearing nothing, he tried the door handle next, finding that most of the doors were locked. Soon he was going to start breaking them down.

Luckily, this one was unlocked, and Chris opened it carefully, his borrowed gun with six bullets left in it resting in his hand, giving him courage. Walking down the light hallway, Chris felt the carpet sag under his weight, and saw dust come up from it. How long had this place been abandoned for? Turning the corner, he pointed his gun down when he saw movement, and was about to shoot when the person turned around, revealing big, worried blue eyes.

"Chris?"

"Rebecca?" he said, suddenly finding himself able to breathe as his name was called out by a human voice. But that relief soon faded as he looked down at the floor to see she was cradling someone's head in her lap. Rushing forward, Chris held back a gasp as he saw Richard lying there, giant puncture marks on his chest. There was blood everywhere, and he could see small, blue veins running out of the wound itself, mixed with puss and a putrid stench.

"He was attacked by a snake," Rebecca said, her voice soft as Richard struggled to breathe, his body trembling. "The poison has taken effect and I don't know how long he'll last without treatment."

Pushing back the panic that had set in, Chris went into autopilot and began working out a way in which Richard could be helped. "Can you save him if you had the right stuff?"

"Probably," she said, wincing as he let out a strangled moan. He looked ready to say something, but she stopped him. "He needs serum, but I don't have any left."

The closet under the stairs. Chris remembered finding that room and saw a crap ton of Umbrella medicinal supplied jammed in the cupboards and on dusty shelves. Maybe they had some serum there?

"I think I know where I can find some," he said, already standing up from his crouched position. "I'll be right back."

"Hurry," Rebecca called after him as he took off, moving through the hallways with a newfound purpose. Thankfully he didn't get lost on his way there, and rushed into the medical supply room as soon as he got down the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he found what he believed would work, Chris rushed back, thankful that he didn't run into any more zombies on his way back—Richard looked like he didn't have a lot of time, and if he got caught up with one of those things trying to get at him, he'd waste too much time.

Returning in less than five minutes, Chris passed the bottle to Rebecca, who seemed genuinely surprised to see he had returned so quickly.

"Thank you," she said, pulling her med-pack around to the front, unzipping the little white bag before pulling out a syringe. Flicking the top off, she plunged the needle into the top of the serum's container, taking in the amount she probably thought fit for what Richard needed. Chris watched in fascination as Rebecca worked quickly and effectively, the nerves she had shown before going away as she got to work.

Injecting Richard, she slowly gave him the medicine, and already Chris could see the furrowing of his brow go away, the painkillers Rebecca had given him beforehand kicking in. "He needs to rest," she said, snapping Chris' attention away from the brutality of his attack, the wounds still open and bleeding. "Can you take me to that medical supply room?"

"Yeah, of course," he said, helping Richard up as Rebecca tried to brace him with her tiny frame.

"T-thanks," Richard said, his voice weak and soft as they slowly moved to the supply room, once again with little trouble from any walking dead. Chris was beginning to take pleasure in the little things in life with this fucked up mission, that was for sure.

When they finally arrived at the medical room, Chris helped Richard down on to the cot, and was about to ask what had happened before Richard fell asleep, his body finally giving out on him. Touching his forehead, Chris could feel a fever developing even through his thick gloves, and was once again about to ask what was going on before Rebecca was pushing him gently out of the way, and seemed to go about dressing the wounds, supplies from different cupboards in her hands.

"I'm sorry, I need room," she said, beginning to work on cleaning everything. Standing off to the side, Chris watched the process, but wasn't really thinking about it. He was too busy trying to work out what had happened, and desperately tried to not think about how the likelihood of finding more surviving members was dwindling. First Joseph, Kevin, Edward, and Kenneth, and now Richard was knocking on death's door.

Why was this happening? Why was this place such a house of horrors—a place that was straight from the movies? This wasn't supposed to be real—things like this didn't happen in real life, but here they were, desperately fighting for their lives as others fell around them, their bodies mutilated as creatures—

"Chris!"

Snapping his attention away from the typewriter he had been staring at, Chris came face-to-face with Rebecca, her hands on her hips as she looked him over carefully. "Are you all right?" she asked, and Chris took the time to look over her shoulder to see Richard was patched up and resting.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," he lied, blinking a few times. "Tell me what happened."

Sighing, Rebecca nodded and went to sit on the chair near the desk, her small hands locking together. "Did you want the long or short story?"

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Bravo Team had been trapped for almost an entire day, running around trying to survive. The helicopter malfunctioned a little bit before their connection had been lost. After making an emergency landing, they split up, much like Alpha team had, in hopes of finding something. In that instance Kevin must have been taken out while he waited with the helicopter. Their journey took them to the Ecliptic Express, where Rebecca claimed she had survived on her own, running away most of the time in an effort to stay alive and sane. When she lived through the night, she found what she believed to be refuge in the mansion… but once again, she was sucked back into the nightmare.

Chris was just glad Rebecca had managed to get through everything relatively unscathed. She has a few cuts on her arms, and was limping a little due to her feet being bruised and blistered, but for the most part, she was fine.

Unfortunately, Richard was not. He woke up halfway through Rebecca's explanation, and stated that they had met up in the mansion. Sticking together, things had worked out until a giant snake attacked the two of them, and Richard had to be the damn hero that he was. When the exchange of stories was complete, Chris decided he would go see if he could find anyone else still alive. While Bravo team seemed completely ravaged by the night before, he was holding out hope that he would find Enrico and Forest still alive. Having been given Richard's radio, Chris hooked it up to his belt and slid a new clip into his ammo pack, before leaving Rebecca to look after Richard, pretty much ordering them not to leave the safety of the medical room.

Continuing his exploration, Chris ran into a few more locked doors and a couple zombies, before he returned to the main entrance hall, the sound of thunder echoing loudly throughout the marble hallway. Taking a steady breath, Chris surveyed the upper area, grateful to see there were still no signs of wandering undead in this area—a surprise, for sure. He was beginning to expect a zombie to be in every single room he entered, and was, for the most part, unfortunately right.

Another flash of lightening illuminated the hallway for a brief moment, and Chris saw a door hidden in the shadows in the corner of the room. Approaching it slowly, he jiggled the handle, and realized it, too, was locked. Letting out a frustrated sound, he banged his fist hard against the expensive door, before finally having enough. Stepping back, he braced himself carefully before slamming his foot against the door, making it rattle in its frame. Repeating the process, Chris kicked it a few more times, and finally the sound of splintered wood carried through to him. Inspecting the door, he saw he had managed to break the door from its lock—the lock itself was still wedged in the door. Rattling it, Chris pulled it out of the rectangular lock and tossed it in the hallway, before pushing the door open.

He knew that his little fit probably caused a lot of racket, and every single enemy in this God forsaken mansion knew exactly where he was, but he was sick and tired of all the locked doors, and it was an excuse to release some stress. He had found a few keys around the place, but they never seemed to open anything he needed to be opened. The room led him out to a balcony area, and Chris gladly stepped out into the fresh air, the smell of ozone and rain invading his senses. No longer was the stench of death overwhelming him, and he took a second to stand near the ledge, scanning the area down below to see the glow of eyes between the trees. The dogs were still wandering about in an unnerving way that pack animals seemed to do.

Moving away from the railing, he ran a hand through his hair, his gun resting at his side as he weighed his options. If he found everyone alive and safe, how were they going to get out of this mess? Those dogs outside prevented any real easy escape, and even if they did get past the dogs, how long would they be wandering in the forest looking for a way back to Raccoon? He still couldn't believe Brad just took off like that; leaving everyone to their fate.

"Fucking chicken shit," Chris growled out, ripping a twig off of a dead potted plant, twisting it around before tossing its crumpled pieces over the edge. Taking a deep breath, Chris closed his eyes for a moment before opening them to continue on his way. Deciding to further explore the balcony that seemed to wrap around the mansion, Chris ventured forward slowly, his combat knife now resting reassuringly in his hand. He was running out of bullets, and his handgun had soon become a last resort weapon. He was holding out hope that he'd run into someone else and be able to regroup with them back at the medical room.

Perhaps Barry heard the racket he made in the main hall and would come looking for him, or maybe…

Forest.

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

Holding back the overwhelming urge to vomit, Chris stayed rooted on the spot, his entire body stiff as he stared at the obviously dead body of his best friend. Sitting limply in a patio chair, Forest's body was pale, his lips blue and eyes glossed over as he stared at the floor, congealed blood all over him and the floor. He had been attacked and left for dead.

He was _dead_.

And here he was… no doubt about it. He was dead and had been for some time. Holding his emotions back, Chris finally moved forward, his feet heavy underneath him as he stopped in front of the body, standing there, staring at the top of his bowed head before he dropped down onto his knees in front of him.

He had seen many of his comrades dead tonight, all of them gruesome and horrible… but this one hit the reality home. Before it was just a nightmare, and despite everything that had happened, he had held out hope that it really was just some fucked up dream, and he'd wake up to see the sun peeking through his blinds, and the smell of Wesker's cologne in his nose.

But instead, all he saw was darkness and death, the only smell that of rotting flesh and dust. Forest… He was really, truly gone, and just like Chris, he wasn't going to wake up. This wasn't a dream or a nightmare, or whatever you wanted to call it. This was real. Everyone was dying around him or getting lost… and he couldn't just wake up and start over. This sort of thing was forever.

Squeezing the handle of the knife, Chris bit his bottom lip—hard—and tried to push past the emotions he was feeling to figure out what happened to Forest. It looked like he had been pecked to death by… crows? He remembered seeing a few in the mansion, their red eyes inspecting him with that eerie intelligence most birds seemed to have. They paid him no mind, but perhaps Forest had done something to incur their wrath? Chris didn't want to think about it too long, and simply stared at Forest's combat boot, trying to imagine it without blood splattered on it. Taking a shaky breath, he finally stood up and pushed back the tears with the palm of his hand.

"Rest in peace, buddy," he said, turning around quickly, desperate to get out of there. Where the cool, refreshing air had brought peace before, it now left Chris feeling raw and exposed, the sudden reality almost too much to bear.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Chris ended up sitting on the steps of the main hall for a time, his head ducked between his legs as he tried to keep himself calm. Forest may be lost, but that didn't mean there was no hope left. For all he knew, all of Alpha team was all right (minus Joseph, of course), and if he could just find Wesker and Jill, then they could meet with Rebecca and Richard and go find Barry and Enrico. He figured moving in numbers was best.

But at the moment, he felt terribly alone.

Standing up, Chris took out his knife again and bounced the handle in his hand, before turning around, intent on returning to the medical room to report what he had found. But when he turned around, he finally took a real look at the painting in front of him.

Squinting his eyes, Chris saw a small gold door handle on what he thought was a simple painting, and realized it was another door. Opening it with ease, he found himself pushing past what he had seen in order to concentrate on more pressing matters. Seeing a zombie shuffling around in a courtyard, he closed the door quietly and avoided the monster as he stepped down the stone steps, inspecting his new area. He was once again outside, but this time in what he suspected was the 'backyard' of the mansion. Keeping his distance from the corpse, he watched the monster shuffle slowly towards him for a moment before turning his attention to the forest in the background. There was the same, eerie silence in the woods up ahead, the same with the rest of Raccoon Forest, but there was something else down there that made Chris feel like it was different.

Finally returning his gaze to the courtyard, he saw the zombie was getting too close and left his position to head towards the black rot iron gate that led into the forest, his curiosity getting the better of him. He knew he should probably try and find some backup before he wandered further away from the mansion and into unknown territory, but he found himself drawn to whatever was down the twisted, winding path through the forest. Closing and shutting the gate tight, Chris made sure the zombie that had been following him couldn't get through, and continued on his way, his boots getting soaked in the puddles of water that had formed. Passing some crows in a graveyard, he paused for a second to look over the graves, wondering more and more what the hell was going on here.

But he didn't have time to dwell on the subject of unknown graves littering an unknown mansion's backyard, for one of the crows started to act up, its cawing ringing through Chris' head as it stared at him. Soon all of the other crows were making sound, and Chris found himself really wanting to leave. Standing up and backing away from one of the graves, Chris hurried to the other iron gate at the end of the path, his heart thudding in his chest as the crows continued to flutter about, their intentions clear.

As soon as he shut the gate, he hurried down the slippery mud path until he had cleared enough distance between him and the crows, their incessant cawing no longer so close and imminent in their approach. Resting against a tree, Chris snagged a twig and began to try and clean some of the mud off the bottom of his boots, already finding it difficult to walk as the grooves became caked over with slippery mud. Snapping the twig when he was done with his first boot, he swore softly, and was just about to give up when the crackle of his radio carried through to him, making him literally almost have a heart attack.

Fumbling with the device, Chris pulled it off of his vest and pressed it close to his ear, the reception incredibly bad in the woods.

"Come on, come on," he mumbled, bouncing a little as the crackling continued. He was desperate to hear contact from someone, and prayed to whatever gods were out there that someone would come help. Finally, a voice carried through, and Chris' heart soared when it was a familiar voice.

Wesker.

"Don't go… woods… can't be… chains… dangerous…" The message was fuzzy at best, and Chris alternated between pressing it against his ear to catch the message, and lowering it a bit as if he was going to say something. When the message finally stopped, he pressed the button on the side of the radio and tried to make contact with Wesker.

"Wesker, are you there?" he called into the device, hoping it could carry through. At the same time he was looking around frantically, figuring Wesker saw him trudge into the woods if he was sending such a message. But after trying for a couple of minutes, Chris realized nothing was getting through, and clipped the device back to himself, suddenly feeling defeated once more.

But that message had told him two things. One, Wesker was still alive and seemed to be doing well for himself. That meant there was a possibility Jill was alive too—she had probably gone off with him when he had gone to the dining room. Secondly, the message did a good job of scaring the shit out of him, without giving him any real information.

"Don't go… chains. Woods?" Repeating a few of the words he had managed to catch, he stared down the foggy path, clenching and unclenching his fist around the handle of his knife. Something dangerous was down there… but how did Wesker know? And what was it, exactly? If Wesker was sending the message, he had obviously encountered whatever it was down there. And if he had, was he in trouble too? Shaking past the dread that overcame him, Chris ventured down the path anyways, despite Wesker's orders.

After all, he never was one for taking them.

Wandering for a good five minutes, he managed to get past another large gate by climbing over it with only minor difficulty. He realized there was probably some special way to get it to unlock, but found himself wearing thin of patience as he stumbled about. When he got to the other side, he kicked the gate open in case he had to make a quick getaway, before venturing further down the path.

It had started to get colder the further he went, and Chris clutched his flashlight as it also grew darker, the only forms of light around him being his pitiful little flashlight, and the full moon that was bright overhead. A few times he had to stop and shine his flashlight on a tree, just to make

sure there was nothing behind it, but for the most part, the only demons that stalked him were those in his own mind.

When he finally came to the end of the twisting path, he stopped in front of a rundown cabin—if you could even call it a cabin. It looked more like a shack; the old side boards rotting and falling off, exposing some of the insides of the place itself. The roof was sagging in the center, and moss and a few mushrooms grew on top, clogging the drainpipe and making the wood soggy in addition to rotting. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure nothing had followed him before he wandered around the cabin slowly, inspecting the area carefully from the outside before deciding to enter. He couldn't shake off the feeling he was being watched as he entered though, his gloved hand pressing the old door open.

The loud creak that accompanied the action made Chris wince a little, once again his presence being declared to the entire population of Raccoon.

"If I had known I was going to be stuck in a creepy mansion with zombies, I'd have brought my can of oil to put on these damn door hinges," he mumbled under his breath. Stepping on a creaky floorboard as he entered, Chris couldn't help but roll his eyes. Perfect.

Shutting the door behind him, he decided to take his gun out for this little adventure, and re-sheathed his knife before pulling out his borrowed gun, his last clip resting in it. Pushing away the feeling of being watched, Chris inspected the main room of the cabin, finding it slightly odd that a fire was burning.

Did that mean there was intelligent life around here? Kicking a piece of bark into the fire, Chris moved towards the back of the house, climbing up a few steps onto an inside deck, which led him to a back room. Keeping the gun raised, he turned the last corner in the small hallway, and expected to encounter something that would explain the fire and the cabin itself. Only he was left with a dead end and a crank resting in the dirt, the metal rusting from age. Putting his gun back in his leg holster, he moved forward and knelt down to pick the crank up, tossing it between his hands.

"This had better not lead me to another puzzle," Chris grumbled, standing up. Stuffing the crank underneath the belt that wrapped around his vest, he turned back around and decided that both Wesker and the 'Thing With Chains', as he liked to call it, were nowhere to be seen, and therefore he had nothing left to do here. Moving back into the main room, Chris heard the clink of chains too late, and found himself unable to think properly as a blinding pain shot through his skull, before the world went black.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

For a second, Chris thought he had died. That whatever had happened to him had killed him, and he had gone to hell. His head was screaming at him, every little sound in the place he was in making his head pound and his eyes throb behind his eyelids. He could hear the crackle of a fire underneath the sound of blood pumping through his skull, and he was aware that someone else was in the room.

Or something else.

Cracking his eyes open slowly, he let out a soft moan as he did so, the light from the fire beside him sending a stabbing pain into his eyes. Willing the pain to go away, he kept his eyes open and stared up at the ceiling, when he remembered where he was.

Yup, he was in hell.

Taking a deep breath, he sat up slowly, and was about to take another rest as the sudden head rush hit him, but all thoughts of sitting still went out the door as soon as he gazed upon what had knocked him out. It was hideous. Truly hideous. Chris thought he had seen the worst when he'd laid eyes upon the undead that covered the mansion, but nothing could prepare him for what 'Thing With Chains' actually was. Hunched over in front of him was a deformed human, her (or perhaps his?) wrists locked together with a large cement block, chains hanging off of the block to attach to her feet. Her hands were long and thin, fingernails looking more like claws than anything else, the nails cracked and caked in filth. Her feet fared no better, and Chris could see heavy callouses on them as if she hadn't worn shoes in a very long time. But he didn't have time to dwell on any of that, for her face was what was garnering the most attention.

Or perhaps it was more fitting to say her _faces_ were garnering the attention. Numerous faces were sewn to her face and hunched back, all of them twisted in a silent scream for eternity. A few of the places where the attachment had taken place obviously hadn't healed properly, and a rotting stink came from the open wounds that seemed present all over her. Chris didn't know where her real face was, but that didn't seem to matter to her or to him at the moment.

Standing up quickly, he momentarily forgot about the blinding pain he was experiencing, and backed up as the creature approached him, her hands dragging the block on the ground. He didn't know what she was going to do, but had a pretty good idea as she lifted her hands up, swinging the block at him while she let out a terrifying scream. Ducking the blow, Chris stumbled away from her, and noticed the door she had been blocking was now free. Not even looking back, he shot out the door and back into the woods, the cold hitting his skin like a thousand little knives while pain blossomed on the back of his head yet again. But the loud scream of the creature inside the cabin told him he wasn't safe, and he headed back up the path, not daring to look back to see if he was being chased.

Slipping a few times, he fell into the mud, his knee pads getting caked in dirt, but he didn't care. Trudging along, he didn't stop until he was back in the main courtyard of the mansion. Slamming the gate closed, he slowly trudged past the zombie that had decided to get itself stuck in a dead garden patch, and opened the door to take him back into the mansion. He didn't stop moving until he began to find it difficult, and finally collapsed on the main entrance way's steps, the very place he had taken a rest just a few… hours ago? How long had he been out?

Slumping against the banister, Chris let out a short huff, his head screaming at him as the adrenaline wore off. Carefully lifting a hand up, he felt the back of his head, and pulled his hand away to see blood coating his fingertips. He felt a little ill looking at his own blood, but realized that head wounds always bled far worse than they actually were… right?

Trying to stay awake, he rubbed his eyes and moved to stand up, drowsiness overtaking him as his head begged him to stop moving. Holding onto the banister, Chris contemplated his options, and figured he would try and make it back to the medical room where hopefully Rebecca could help him out. He didn't have any painkillers or medical supplies on him whatsoever, and was beginning to hate his lack of preparation.

Turning around, he made move to go upstairs when the creak of the dining room door carried through to him, followed up by a rough slam and heavy footsteps on the marble floor. Turning around quickly, Chris blacked out for a second, and fell down onto the stairs with a heavy thud. Realizing he was probably dead, he fumbled with trying to locate his knife with his eyes closed, and succeeded in finding it before a strong hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him from pulling it out.

"What is wrong, Chris?"

Opening his eyes, Chris' vision blurred before he managed to make out dark shades and brilliant blonde hair. "W-Wesker?" he croaked out, relief flooding his system as the familiar sight of Wesker washed over him. Slumping forward, Chris stuffed his face against Wesker's shoulder, letting himself show that moment of weakness. "I was so worried."

"What happened?" Wesker asked, his hand coming up to touch the back of Chris' head, an unpleasant hum rumbling forth from his chest as he obviously discovered the blood.

"Went into the woods," he mumbled, his voice hurting his head. "W-was attacked by something."

"That was very foolish of you for going into the woods. Did you not receive my message?"

"The garbled one on the broken radio? Yeah, bits and pieces," he said, not wanting to leave the safe embrace of Wesker.

Sighing, Wesker's fingers gently touched the back of Chris' neck, as if to soothe him before he slowly pulled away, hands braced against his shoulders to keep him upright. "You need medical attention."

"Rebecca… She's in the medical room."

"Rebecca?"

"Y-yeah… Her and Richard. They're still alive," he said, trying to focus on Wesker.

There was silence for a moment, before Wesker spoke just as he began helping Chris stand. "Take me to this medical place. Perhaps she can help you." Chris tried to nod in agreement, but just ended up feeling nauseous and opted to just use Wesker as support as they slowly went back to the medical supply room, Chris actually surprised he had remembered where it was.

Once they entered, Chris had expected to see Rebecca and Richard there, but was greeted with an empty room.

"Where did they go?" he mumbled, wincing as Wesker slammed the door shut. Locking it, Wesker then led Chris to the cot in the corner, and helped him sit down before he went to investigate all of the bottles and drawers in the room.

"Are you sure they were still alive and you weren't… hallucinating?"

Rubbing his eyes, Chris let out a soft huff before answering, his head swimming. "Yeah, positive. See all the bandages on the shelf? Rebecca used those to help Richard," he grumbled out, squinting as the light in the room stung his eyes.

"What happened to Richard?" he asked, moving forward with a bottle in one hand, and some gauze and a smaller bottle in the other. Kneeling in front of Chris, Wesker opened the small bottle and pulled out a few pills, shoving them in Chris' hand.

"Take these to help with the pain."

Nodding, Chris swallowed them without water, and closed his eyes as Wesker began prodding him again. "He was attacked by a snake."

"A snake?"

"A giant snake, apparently. They said it happened in a library near the dining hall. Richard was pretty badly hurt, but Rebecca managed to patch him up."

"And they were supposed to wait here?" Wesker ignored Chris' hiss as the rubbing alcohol was applied to the wound.

"Y-yeah, I have no idea where they went," he said, opening his eyes to watch Wesker cut out a swatch of gauze to put over the cut and rising bump. "Speaking of which, where is Jill?"

Raising an eyebrow, Wesker paused his ministrations for a moment. "We got separated."

"How?"

"Numerous circumstances were stacked against us. Essentially, a few of those undead abominations came bursting through a washroom door when we walked past. After we killed and inspected the bodies, Jill went back to look for you… and I haven't seen her since."

"I found her gun," he said, pulling it out of the holster while Wesker resumed making the makeshift bandage.

"Where?"

"In the main hall… near where you two left. I don't know—she must have dropped it in the confusion."

"Where is your gun?" he asked, going to stick the bandage on.

Shrugging, Chris let out a deep breath as Wesker touched the bump again, but found it not hurting as much as it could. Those painkillers were already kicking in and doing their job. Thank God for Umbrella. "I dropped it… outside."

Chris looked up to see Wesker glaring at him from behind his sunglasses. "You're an idiot, Chris."

"Thanks… Have you seen Barry or Enrico?"

"Why Barry and Enrico? I thought you would be concerned with everyone," he asked, cleaning up.

"Everyone else is dead."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, moving to grab Wesker's hand in his own, squeezing gently. "I found Kenneth, Forest, and Joseph's bodies. Rebecca confirmed Edward and Kevin's death, and… well, everyone else is either missing or in this room."

Squeezing Chris' hand gently, Wesker moved forward to kiss him quickly, their lips touching for a brief but calm moment. It was enough to stop Chris from shaking.

Taking his hand back, Wesker fumbled around in his pockets before he pulled out two handgun clips, and a couple of shotgun rounds. Pushing them into Chris' hands, Wesker stood up and tossed the painkiller bottle at Chris, too.

"Take those as needed, but don't overdose. Too many could make you fall asleep and we wouldn't want that," he instructed as Chris fumbled around with the new items.

"I don't have a shotgun," he said when he finally dropped the contents into his lap. Looking up at Wesker, Chris frowned slightly.

"Keep them just in case," he said, giving Chris one last look before he turned around and headed to the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" he called out, his head throbbing as his voice raised in tone. "We should stick together."

"I'm just going to look for Rebecca and Richard—they can't have gone far. You rest for another fifteen minutes before thinking about going anywhere," he said, opening the door. He didn't get halfway out, though, before Chris called out for him again, desperately not wanting to see him leave.

"What is it, Chris?"

"I love you," he said, voice strong despite the hesitancy he still found gripping him when speaking those words aloud. Nothing was said for a moment, before Wesker turned around and left the room.

A closed door was his reply.

* * *

_As you can probably see, I've tried to meld both Jill and Chris' story while still having everything make sense. I added scenes, got rid of some, etc. I didn't want to just re-write the games because anyone can go play them, so I tried to make it a little more... original. I also melded RE1 and RE: Remake. So no crimson heads, but Lisa is present! Anyways, the next part of the mansion will be posted in 10 days!_


	40. Destiny

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Violence, Character death_

**Authors Note: **The chapter you've all been waiting for is finally here... enjoy. _  
_

* * *

**Chapter 40- Destiny**

_Our destiny is frequently met in the very paths we take to avoid it. _~Jean de La Fontaine~

The nightmares just kept coming after that. He had stumbled his way around the mansion and surrounding area all night, finding files and reports on things he didn't understand, fighting monsters that could rip you apart in one fatal swoop if they got too close, and discovering he had lost more people. First Richard sacrificed himself to help Chris out, by serving as a distraction to the giant shark later known as Neptune. He didn't know why Richard had done what he had done, but Chris was desperately trying not to hold onto survivor's guilt— guilt that made him resent his own existence. Such feelings would do no good where he was now.

Of course the blows kept coming. When he had discovered Enrico alive, but barely, Chris was positive he'd be able to help him out. He had an escape route secured, he had some medical supplies on him; Enrico would be _fine_. But Enrico had other plans. The mansion had frayed his nerves, and he was becoming paranoid, shouting off about how there was a traitor among them and Umbrella was behind everything. He had gone as far as to accuse Chris of being the one to orchestrate the affairs, making him feel sick to his stomach. Did Enrico really believe he could be so cruel and vindictive? But he would never have a chance to make it up to Enrico for any animosity he felt towards him, because the next thing he knew, Enrico was bleeding from the heart and there was a loud ring about the underground cave.

Someone had shot him. Someone had seen him and shot him without a second thought. Chris had hesitated a split second too long in his decision to either aid Enrico or see who it was, and ended up neither saving Enrico nor catching whoever had killed him in cold blood.

He ended up sitting down in the tunnels for some time, not really wanting to move forward in fear of what he would witness, before he finally worked up the nerve to take the ammo in Enrico's hand, his emotions telling him what he was doing was wrong; to scavenge off of the body of a dead friend was despicable. But he needed those bullets dearly, and he had long since run out of them. He only had three shotgun rounds left in the gun he'd taken from Richard after he, too, passed away.

All in all, Chris was beginning to suffer mentally more than anything else. The scrapes and bruises would heal and the exhaustion would go away, but this… this was all too much on his mind.

But things got worse after Enrico's death. Things got a lot worse. Because what Enrico had told him before he'd been killed was all beginning to sound like it was the truth. Wandering about and collecting files, he had begun to realize that Umbrella was behind it all. The mansion belonged to Umbrella, the zombies who were shambling about all once worked for Umbrella, and the entire incident was because Umbrella had been experimenting on something they shouldn't have been.

This was all because Umbrella fucked the hell up.

Chris didn't know what to think. After he had read some of the files and wandered around the guard house not really comprehending what he had read, he finally found a room where there was no hanging body or giant spiders, and sat down on the creaky old bed, his body flicking up dust. Holding onto a crumbled diary entry from one of the researchers, he re-read it a few times before he ripped it up slowly, meticulous in fashion. First down the center vertically, then horizontally. He repeated the process until there was nothing left but small paper squares, the entire confession unreadable.

The company that had founded this city… The company that had saved millions of lives around the world because of their medical treatments… The company that had hired him and all of his friends, was actually creating and experimenting with viruses. Viruses they used to create abominations—creatures they planned to sell as war machines. It was disgusting and pitiful. None of the creatures he had seen this entire time measured up to the amount of contempt he felt for Umbrella.

Umbrella was going _down_.

And so he carried forth with his newfound drive, determined to stay alive so he could get the information out to the public. He eventually ran into Rebecca and Wesker again, and stuck together with the two of them for some time until Wesker disappeared after they disposed of Lisa—the 'Thing With Chains'. But Rebecca stayed with him as they eventually made it down to the Umbrella laboratories, which were situated deep underground.

Rebecca, for her part, had become Chris' support system throughout the rest of their journey—the two of them supporting each other as much as they could while both trying to survive. A few times Chris had actually found himself in debt to Rebecca's quick thinking, and owed his life to her on more than one occasion. All of the times he had thought about her being a liability went out the window as she took down a Hunter that would have cut his head clean off, if not for her precise shot to one of its eyes.

As long as he had at least one other person with him, Chris figured they'd be able to make it out alive if they could find some sort of proper escape route. He had heard Brad a few times over the radio, and knew he was circling around the forest, and Rebecca had found a rough map of the mansion earlier on her trip, and knew there was a helicopter pad; no doubt it would have flares somewhere around. So they ventured down to the labs in hopes of finding the fated elevator to the helicopter pad, their last hope in surviving. Chris had given up hope for finding Jill and Barry alive, and realized it was easier to become pessimistic about their prospects than anything else. But he would not grieve for them until he was positive they had perished.

"This doesn't feel right," Rebecca mumbled as they walked into a dark, dank cement hallway, a few zombies in lab coats shambling around in front of them as moisture from the ceiling fell, landing in puddles on the ground.

"Has any of this felt right?" he asked, aiming carefully to see if he could get a headshot on one of the zombies, saving them some trouble later on.

"Not really," she said, wincing as the loud bang of the gun ricocheted off the walls. Chris had managed to get his headshot.

Moving forward, Chris could see Rebecca limping, and was troubled by her weary appearance. "Are you going to be all right?" he asked, stepping over the body as its brains seeped out across the floor.

Nodding, Rebecca stepped over it as well before they walked around the stairwell, and ended up at a cross roads. One path would lead them to the stairs that would probably take them to the labs, while the other led to a room where the door was open.

"Which way?"

"Let's go to the room first," Rebecca said, moving on ahead of Chris. Following behind, he looked over his shoulder to make sure the zombie on the stairs stayed where it was, before entering what appeared to be a meeting room. And on the screen was a slide—one displaying the BOW Cerberus and all of the details behind the monster.

"I could have done with this at the beginning of the trip."

Rebecca laughed softly, but it was clear she wasn't that amused by the lack of mirth in her voice. "Who started this up?"

"I don't know," he said, realizing that someone had to have been here before. Looking around the room, he wandered over to a few bookshelves, seeing a lot of biological reports—all mumbo jumbo to him.

"Barry."

"What?" Turning around from his inspection of the bookshelf, Chris eyed Rebecca as she passed him a note.

'_If you're still alive, I hope you get this letter. I'm still alive, too. Heard there is a helicopter pad nearby. Making my way over there. -Barry'_

There was a time at the end of the letter—4:04 AM. Glancing at his watch, Chris realized that was less than fifteen minutes ago.

"If we hurry, we might be able to follow his trail and catch up to him," he said, suddenly finding himself re-energized. The idea that Barry was still alive meant a lot to both of their morale at this point.

"What about Jill and Captain Wesker?" Rebecca asked as they left the room, forgetting about the slides on the projector.

"I… I don't know," Chris said, not wanting to think about the possibility they were dead. Barry had given him new hope that they might still be alive, but his newfound pessimistic attitude was winning out.

Getting past the zombie on the stairs and venturing further down, he kept one eye on Rebecca as she slowly walked beside him, her body almost giving out on her. She had been doing this for well over twenty-four hours now, and he didn't know how much longer she'd be able to last. "Maybe we should find a secure room where you can rest, and I'll explore some more," he suggested, but found himself stopping his worrying as a naked zombie moved towards them. It was a less than pleasant sight, and Chris resented the fact that the creature was naked. He was only just getting used to seeing a fully dressed one up close.

Rebecca seemed to have her shit together, though, and shot it a few times before it fell to the floor, body twitching a little.

"He'll get back up in a bit, we should hurry," she said, going to the door it was blocking. Opening it with ease, the two entered the small hallway and shut the door behind them. "And in answer to your suggestion—I'm fine, Chris."

"I'm getting worried, though. You're tired," he said as they headed to the door at the end, three glowing lights emitting a soft buzzing sound beside it.

"You are too, but I'm not telling you to do something you know isn't possible. Besides, I want to see Barry too. I may not have been a STARS member for long, but he was always kind to me and I would like to see him safe."

Nodding, Chris let her do what she wanted, figuring she knew her limits better than he did. He felt a little bad pressuring her, but didn't have time to apologise before she did first.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I know you're worried about me, but I'm fine," she said, before pausing at the closed door at the bottom of the stairs. They could clearly hear voices, and Chris recognized both of them.

Pushing the door open excitedly, he rushed in and could almost cry with joy at the sight of Barry and Jill. He was so happy he completely blocked the sight of Jill in a jail cell and just relished in the fact that they were alive and not mutilated corpses.

"Chris!" Jill's voice rang out in excitement, and Chris found himself swallowed up in a hug from Barry.

"God, I thought you were dead," Barry said, crushing Chris before letting him go. Rebecca squeezed her way into the small room, and Barry hugged her too.

"I thought you two had died," Chris said, a smile finally gracing his features after so much frowning beforehand. "Where were you guys?"

"I was busy trying to get out of this damn place," Barry said, his merry features suddenly going dark. "I got separated when we ran from those dogs in the woods, and I ended up getting to the back courtyard. When I got into the mansion, I wandered around hoping I'd find some of you, but I just got more and more lost. Thankfully, I was able to figure out there was a helicopter pad, and now here I am."

"I got locked up," Jill said, and Chris finally realized that, yes, she was inside a jail cell.

"How?" he asked while inspecting the door to see if they could break her out of it. It was made of heavy steel and iron, and he figured short of dynamite, they had no hope of getting in without the key.

"Wesker."

"There is no way we're going to get you out of here without a…" Chris wasn't really listening to Jill as he fiddled with the door, and continued talking until her words finally carried through to him. Slowing down, he dropped his hand from the cool metal, mouth parted slightly as he looked at Jill through the bars.

"Why did he do that?" Rebecca asked, but Chris didn't hear her. Everything suddenly sounded like he was in a fishbowl, the thudding of his heart the loudest thing in the room. That wasn't possible… No, Wesker was their Captain. He wouldn't lock Jill in a jail cell. And if he did, he had a good reason… Right?

"He's been working for Umbrella," Barry gruffed out, and his tone made Chris turn to look at him, although his gaze refused to rise to look him in the eyes. Instead, he stared at a fixed point on Barry's shoulder.

The thudding in his chest grew louder.

_Wesker. Back in May. Hunched over his desk. A phonecall…_

"_And you're positive it's a leak?... Yes, yes, of course I bloody well understand. Yes, I'll be there soon."_

Back in May… a leak. Wesker wasn't feeling right and he left because of a leak… An E. coli leak, though. Not some virus. No, Barry was definitely lying.

"W-what? He's working for Umbrella? For how long?"

"Years, I'm guessing. He used to be part of the research project."

Barry and Rebecca's voices rung clearly throughout the room, but Chris couldn't make out too much over the sound of the increasingly loud thudding in his chest and head. It was beginning to make him shake, his hands trembling. It didn't match up—it couldn't match up. Wesker was always there—he was always with Chris and they were a couple. Wesker was their Captain and he wouldn't do something like this. No, there was no way this was true.

But just a few short weeks ago…

_He's changing. He's… not the same—hasn't been the same since he got that call last month. I feel like if I could figure it out, if I could find out what was wrong with him, then that pressure would go away. I'd feel as if I could stop thinking about him all the time._

That call… that call was about the T-virus… Wesker was—

"How did you—I mean, how do you know for sure?"

No, no, no, no, no, no, no—

"I saw a slide, up in the projector room. He was in it along with other researchers."

"No," Chris whispered, Barry's voice suddenly bringing him back to reality. A reality he did not want to face.

"Chris, are you all right?" Raising his head, he finally looked at Barry, his lips tight as the pressure in his chest squeezed down on his heart, pushing it past its limit. He felt like he was going to pass out, but kept himself upright.

He had to see this himself.

Shaking his head, he said nothing and made move to leave the room, trying desperately to distance himself from his friends who he could already feel were _judging_ him. He made his way to the projector room quickly, his boots slamming against the cement as he clambered up the stairs towards his fate. The zombies were easier to dodge when the fear he felt for them was nothing compared to the fear he felt when approaching his own destiny. When he got to the room, he slowed down after throwing the door open, the darkness enveloping him as the projector slept, the fan rumbling inside like a sleeping dragon. The blood rushing through his system was deafening in his ears as he approached the table, his eyes adjusting quickly to the dark interior of the room.

Standing beside the projector, he could make out the giant red button on the top, and poised his hand over it, close enough to press it, or retract his hand.

He could still turn back. He didn't have to look at it—who said it even existed? Barry said he had seen it, but he could be lying. Wesker wouldn't do that… Wesker respected them. Wesker… Wesker loved him. Didn't he?

"_I love you."_

_The stiffness in his body. The sudden clenching of his jaw… the pulling away._

_The distance that had suddenly come between them when those three little words were spoken._

Taking a deep breath, Chris' finger smashed down on the button, waking the projector up with a crack in the plastic. The BOW Cerberus slide appeared on the screen yet again, and he found himself pushing the button faster and faster, every click sounding like thunder.

Neptune… Hunters… Chimera… Web Spinners… Plant 42.

Speeding up, Chris flicked through image after image, desperately wanting Barry to have been lying. He had to have been lying. Each slide made him want to throw up as each turned out not to be what he was looking for. Close to the end, he wanted to smash the machine for purposefully leading him on.

It was a lie. A lie, a lie, a lie—

There… there it was.

Brightening the room, the lab coats on the image splayed white across the walls and the desk, but Chris refused to blink away the sudden light as his eyes fixed on one figure and one figure alone.

There he was; dark shades, brilliant blonde hair, delicate hands stuffed in a white lab coat's pockets. That familiar, exquisite, aristocratic face… Their Captain, his superior, his partner… The man he loved.

On a slide in the darkest corner of the world.

Chris didn't know what to say or do, his hearing all but gone save for his own heavy breathing and the blood pumping through his system. He felt close to vomiting, and stumbled back from the image on the screen, his attention still on the stoic expression of Wesker.

How _could_ he?

And for a moment, that question applied to both of them.

Turning around, he found himself leaving the room, his foot catching on the wire that kept the projector running. Pulling it off of the table with his momentum, the projector crashed to the floor, the room once again going pitch black as he threw the door open, using his entire body to move it out of his way in a desperate attempt to be able to breathe again. Not stopping when he left the room, he went to press his shoulder against the wall in front of him, eyes squeezed shut as the moans of a zombie rattled about the cement hallway. What was he going to do now? Wesker was… Wesker was working for Umbrella. It was clear—even he couldn't deny it.

Wesker was the traitor Enrico had been yelling about… Wesker was probably the one who shot him, too. In fact, Wesker was responsible for killing everyone on STARS one way or another. The man who touched him, who laid his hands upon him and kissed him in the most intimate way, had the blood of hundreds of innocent people on his hands.

He felt numb, and he suddenly let himself shut down. He knew it was dangerous, but he didn't want to think right now. Mind going blank, Chris continued to lean against the wall, shaking as the dank hallway seeped into him. This couldn't be true—this wasn't happening. This was all just a dream and he had to wake up from it _now_.

"Chris?"

Snapping out of his daze, he made move to grab his gun, before he realized he had no bullets. Turning his attention to the stairs, he found Rebecca standing at the top of them, concern all over her face.

"Are you all right? You look pale," she said, inching closer to Chris as his hand dropped from his gun.

"It's true," he found himself saying, his voice impossibly soft in the corridor. Saying it out loud was worse than when he just thought about it, and he felt himself slipping again before Rebecca brought him back.

"What is?"

Swallowing thickly, he bit his bottom lip before speaking again. "Wesker… He's working for Umbrella. And he's against me—he's against us."

Wesker had betrayed them. He had betrayed _him_. He had made and used STARS for his own needs, and no matter how much Chris denied it, that was the plain and simple truth. The drive he had lost for that brief moment was coming back as he thought this over again, and he began to get agitated just standing there against the wall. He wanted to kick, and scream, and yell, and cry. He wanted to do all of those things and more, but mostly he wanted answers.

"I need to find him," he said, more to himself than anything. The colour in his face began to come back as he pushed himself from the wall, body still shaking from anger and cold. "I need to find him."

"But how?" Rebecca asked, and suddenly Chris remembered she was there.

Blinking a few times, he took a steadying breath before speaking again. "I don't know."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

They didn't have much time to wander the labs. Everyone else's top priority was to get out of the mansion before Brad left them stranded. But Chris' top priority was to find Wesker, and Rebecca helped him along his quest while Barry continued to try and free Jill. He felt selfish for what he was doing, but he needed to find Wesker; he needed to talk to him or hit him or do _something_—anything as long as he saw him. But that was the crux of the problem right there. If he found Wesker and did see him, what would he do?

"Finally." Rebecca's soft voice resounded about the room as the elevator started up. They had encountered more hideous creatures in their attempt to find the elevator system, and the two of them were ready to just say screw it and blow the building up with all of them in it before they finally managed to get the elevator working again. It took a lot of bullets and some of Rebecca's hidden mechanic skills to get the thing working again, but there it was with the sound of the motor whirling loudly above the industrial container.

"Where does it go?" Chris asked, fingers tapping against his thigh, not wanting to stay still for too long. He started to think too much when he stayed stationary.

"Up to the roof and the helipad and downstairs to the main lab."

When Rebecca said that, he suddenly got a twisted feeling in his gut and began to shake again, but he refused to let it show too much. Bracing his hand on his wrist, he stopped his fidgeting. He knew Wesker was down there.

"You go find Barry and see how he's doing with Jill… I'll go down to the other lab and check things out," he said, voice distant as he pressed the button.

"It's not safe to go alone—"

"I'll be fine," Chris said, cutting Rebecca off quickly. Turning his attention to her, he could see the trepidation in her face and sighed. "I swear, I'll be all right. We need Jill out of that cell otherwise none of us are getting out of here."

"Leave no man behind."

Chris had to smirk at that, and nodded. "Y-yeah, no man gets left behind."

Taking a deep breath, Rebecca nodded and passed Chris her last clip. "Take it and… and stay safe."

Thanking her, Chris watched her hurry out of the room before he turned to the elevator, the doors open with a red light in the corner turned on, giving it the appearance of the gates to hell. He figured that was a pretty apt description of the entire mansion. Trying to calm himself down, he closed his eyes and counted to three, not thinking about what was going to happen at all. Just… go down there and see what there was. That was it; finish the mission.

Stepping into the elevator, he quickly pressed the 'close door' button before the button to the main lab, which was even further underground. Closing his eyes again, Chris listened to the hum of the wire as it lowered the elevator down, his throat going dry and lips chapping in an instant as the stress got to him tenfold. When the door opened, he immediately opened his eyes and pulled out his gun, aiming it in front of himself to gaze down the hallway. Carefully checking his surroundings, he paid special attention to the gaps in the ceiling, looking out for those damn bug things that almost caught Rebecca.

Moving ahead slowly, he started to sing a song under his breath—a song his mother sang to him when he was afraid of monsters under his bed. It was childish, but Chris needed everything he could use against the monsters in reality and in his head.

"There's a place not far… where the wild things are…" One step at a time, he neared a corner, and turned it to see a door that no doubt led to the lab. "There's a place that's near, close your eyes and let it appear…" Moving to the door, he again steadied himself. "There's a whole new world..." And he pushed the door open before finishing his rhyme. "—waiting for you."

And there he was, waiting for Chris.

When Chris saw Wesker standing there in front of him, he once again felt a flurry of emotions seize him all at once. Despair, confusion, distrust, hatred, love—all of it consuming him and making him feel as if he was drowning. He wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings; the green glow of the test tubes, the files upon files of research, the creatures that slept within the tubes themselves. None of it mattered to him as he tried to keep afloat in the sea of his own emotions.

Wesker was standing at a computer system, his back to Chris as he typed away at something, seemingly completely at ease with his surroundings. Chris took that as a bad sign, and walked further into the room before the door behind him shut as the air conditioning system kicked in—probably one of the few things that still worked in the damn place.

Hearing the door, Wesker turned around quickly, his refined features harsh under the sickly green glow in the room. When Chris finally saw Wesker's face—could see the monster behind it all, he found himself climbing upon a lifeboat, clutching at the emotion he felt the most at that time.

_Rage_.

It was completely unfiltered rage—a primal grip of anger and hate that bubbled to the surface as he stood before his lover, his Captain, and his betrayer. Chris could no longer lie to himself about any of it as he finally faced Wesker.

"You son of a bitch," he hissed out, his gun steady in his hand despite the terror that gripped his heart.

Wesker smirked a little, the quick turn of the corner of his mouth familiar in its action to Chris. "Now, now, Chris, is that any way to speak to your superior?"

Not hiding the grimace, he glared at Wesker and continued to point his gun at him, unsure of what Wesker was going to do. He pulled the trigger on Enrico, what would stop him from killing him? "You're not my superior."

"Fine—is that any way to speak to the man you love?" he asked, and Chris felt himself falter for a moment, his gun lowering just a fraction.

"I don't love you anymore," he lied, and he knew Wesker could hear it in his voice. It was useless to say that he no longer held those feelings for Wesker, even when he was trying his hardest to push past them at this critical moment. God damn it, he did not need to have this complicated further than it already was. Chris knew the difference between right and wrong when he entered this room, and he was going to leave with his morals intact.

Wesker lost the smirk on his lips at that moment, but he continued to stand strong. "Don't delude yourself; you cannot lose your feelings for someone so quickly."

"How long have you been with Umbrella?" Chris barked out, not wanting to let Wesker worm into him like he always did. He saw the real Wesker now, and it would be impossible for Wesker to hide behind the lies he fabricated for so long.

"Twenty-one years."

Fuck… Twenty-one years. Biting his bottom lip, Chris felt the skin sting a little as he bit too hard. "Twenty-one years... More than half of your life."

"Yes."

"Why? Why join Umbrella and do this sick as fuck research?"

"Why do anything? Power, Chris, it was always about power. When I came to America to study, as I told you previously, it was not to obtain any degree in history or mathematics, nor even science. It was to become a student of Umbrella—a student and soon an employee who worked and manipulated their viruses in the name of a brighter future."

"Brighter for you, but not for the innocent people you killed," Chris said, his hand shaking more as Wesker continued to let all of his past out to him… finally.

"They are expendable. They lived and served as they should, and in the end, their lives will have aided the world while shifting the balance of power and fortune."

"I bet that's what Josef Mengele said as he tossed his victims into freezing water so they would fucking die of hypothermia."

"I'm impressed you know of him," Wesker said, shifting his stance ever so slightly. Chris thought it odd that Wesker was so at ease with a gun pointed at him, but paid it little mind as Wesker continued to speak. "But did his research ultimately not save thousands if not millions of lives?"

He didn't want to hear anymore, and moved to the next question, firmly against admitting what Wesker had said held a crenel of truth to it. Wesker was wrong—plain and simple. "Why STARS? Why form them only to kill every single one? Betray their trust and lead them to their deaths?"

Wesker simply shrugged, only serving to make Chris even angrier. "When the leak happened, Umbrella thought there was hope of salvaging the laboratory and the research, but it soon became apparent that it was not possible. The creatures we created had taken over, and all seemed lost. Of course, it wasn't all gone…"

Moving over to one of the desks against the wall, Wesker pressed his hip against it, arms crossed over his chest as he stayed cool and calm under Chris' gunpoint. "I realized that STARS would be fruitful in obtaining combat data. After all, many of these creatures were created for warfare, yet very little tactical and combat data had been gathered on them. So, in turn, I lured you all into this mansion to record what I could and use it."

"So you followed whatever Umbrella told you?" he asked, and for a split second—only a split second—Chris wanted to pull the trigger. He wanted to blow Wesker's brains out and send them flying across the back wall. But those feelings went away as soon as they had come, leaving him so caught up in his own monstrous behaviour for a moment that he didn't realize Wesker was speaking until too late.

"What?" he mumbled, eyebrows furrowed as Wesker's thin lips parted slowly.

"I said: it was all _my_ idea. Umbrella had nothing to do with this. I wanted the information, and Umbrella would not give it to me."

And there it was—the truth to everything. Wesker really was the monster everyone thought he was. He was cruel, cold, and void of all emotions except for ones that helped him in his search for power and greed. He was a murderer in Chris' eyes, and yet…

"Why bring me into it?" he asked after a time, his arms aching from being up for so long. But the question actually seemed to make Wesker hesitate, his lips once again parting before closing. Chris could see the slight clench of his jaw before he spoke once again.

"You were not part of the equation; well, you were not part of the plan outside of STARS. I came into STARS looking for power, and you simply… happened."

"I just happened?"

"Yes."

"Fucking bullshit. For someone who is so meticulous with his fucked up double life, you'd think you would have planned my relationship with you a little more carefully."

Why would Wesker have given himself to Chris, and reignited the flame between them if he was so damn eager to destroy Chris' and everyone else's lives? Why would he come back and why would he even entertain Chris' puppy dog affection for so long if he was such a killer?

"You simply happened, Chris, and I used your body for pleasure as I had stated numerous times. You meant nothing to me." But this time when Wesker spoke, he did not sound as confident as before, and his posture showed his new defensive attitude.

He knew Wesker was trying to hurt him, that he was pushing him away with his words again. And Chris let it. He let Wesker thrust the proverbial knife in his gut and twist it around, taking any semblance of peace from him as it stuck in him. He knew what Wesker was saying would infect over time, but he didn't care. He let the knife stay in him and used it to fuel the fire that was gathering in his chest. He was still standing strong despite the circumstances, and Chris would _not_ let Wesker drag him back down.

"You used me, Wesker. You played me like your fucking pawn. But you left something behind with me and I _know_ that you feel it! You wouldn't have just given yourself to me like that the other night. You wouldn't have invited me so _fucking_ far into your life if I was just a means of distraction! You felt something, Wesker." He was so angry at Wesker right now, but he was beginning to lose why he was so upset. Wesker had killed so many people—ripped apart and mutilated his and so many other people's lives. He killed his best friend and most of his teammates—the stench of their blood and the looks on their faces still so fresh in his mind. So why did he want him to admit he had feelings for him?

Perhaps it was because Chris wanted to know he hadn't let himself fall in love with a complete monster…

"_I love you." He had hesitated when he had said it before, but he meant it. And he didn't care if Wesker didn't return it. He loved Wesker and for some reason, he could feel a bit of that returned._

Wesker had stood back up this time, and he had moved forward towards Chris. Backing up himself, he kept the gun outwards before freezing as Wesker grabbed his hand and shoved the gun up against his chest, keeping it there over his heart.

"I feel nothing for you, Chris," he said, pressing the barrel firmly into his chest. Chris' hands began to shake harder. "You mean _nothing_ to me. Yet you are so desperate for me to return these feelings you have for me. I killed your friends—I destroyed their lives just as I will destroy yours, and yet you keep _pushing_ me to admit these things to you!

"I know why you do this, though. You've always been so easy to read, Chris… You do this because you're afraid of what my actions say about you. You're afraid—" and he jerked the gun harshly as his words came out faster and louder, face contorted into a mask of vindication. "—of what falling in love with a man like me means about you. And let me tell you one thing, Chris… Your feelings for me make you just as bad as I am, because I warned you. I showed you my true colours time and time again and yet you _kept coming back_. There are more important things in my life than you, and you should hate me for it. Whatever you thought you would gain by getting me to admit anything will not happen. I killed them, I feel no remorse for my actions, and I _will_ continue with _my_ plans with or without your interference. So here is my final warning for you—_stay away_ from me."

And just like that, Wesker had dragged Chris back into the darkness with him. Feeling like he was looking down a tunnel and sitting in a fishbowl, Chris couldn't hear anything except for Wesker's words and his heartbeat. He felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest, and swallowed thickly, his hands shaking under Wesker's own.

He was just as at fault as Wesker was… He could see the signs and he recognized the danger, and yet he did nothing… nothing at all.

"If you're so sure of your morals, and that I am really the villain in all of this, then shoot me."

"No," Chris said, trying to pull his hands away from Wesker.

What was Wesker doing? Was he really that crazy?

"Shoot me! I murdered your friends and I destroyed your life. Shoot me!"

"NO!" Chris yelled, unable to pull the trigger when it came down to it. Wesker was testing him, and he knew he was losing, but God damn it, why did this have to happen? Why did Wesker have to chase after this and why couldn't he pull the trigger? Why couldn't he kill Wesker for what he did to everyone? Wesker, of all people, deserved to die and yet he couldn't do it!

"If you are so sure that you are better than me—that you no longer love me and that you yourself are not tainted—you will slay me here as I stand!"

And Chris knew that Wesker knew he would never be able to do it. And God fucking damn, that hurt. Pulling away, Chris slammed his gun hard against the side of Wesker's face, blood and spit immediately flying across the room as Wesker's face went to the side, a hand quickly going to cup his cheek.

"I hate you," Chris said, jaw clenched as tears stung his eyes. But he refused to let them fall. Wesker could take his heart and his body, he could make Chris face his true nature and the reality of it all, but he would _not_ take his pride.

Wesker slowly moved back, his lip bleeding . Touching it gently, his delicate fingers became dotted in blood, and Chris stood in front of him, breathing heavy and gun resting in his hand at his side. "Good," Wesker said, voice incredibly quiet in the room. Moving away from him, Wesker spat more blood out onto the floor and gave Chris one last look before he went to the computer system. He could see him shaking heavily now, and felt no better.

Watching but not comprehending, Chris let Wesker play with the buttons on the computer, typing whatever it was he needed to type. Wesker had won whatever game they had been playing. He had used him, he had used STARS… He had used everyone around him. He had done what he had said he was doing, but now Chris had to face it head-on.

And he had failed.

"We could have had a good life together," he whispered, and he could tell Wesker heard him by the subtle turn of his head. "Just answer me one more question before you do whatever you're going to do."

There was a pause before he spoke. "What is that?"

"Why do all of this for power? Why throw everything away?"

Again, another pause as Wesker seemed to contemplate his answer before he spoke, voice soft. "Because the alternative would have been to throw everything away for you."

And he pressed the final button.

The sound of water rushing out of a tube broke the sudden stillness in the room, and Chris forced himself to look away from Wesker to the tube beside the computer. What he saw made him completely forget about the meaning behind Wesker's words as he gazed upon the abomination in the tank. It was human… or it had been. And it was huge—its entire frame stretched and strengthened to make it a giant among mortal men. The skin on it was pale and almost translucent, blue and red veins showing clearly through the skin, and its teeth bare, lips pulled back to give it a permanent snarl. And its massive heart was _outside_ its body. The valves were large in size, pumping copious amounts of blood through its gigantic body, giving it life and a will to fight.

He swore he could hear the thumps of its heartbeat over the sound of rushing water.

"What is it?" Chris asked, eyes going to its claw for a hand.

"The Tyrant is many things. It's Umbrella's money and research, your nightmare… and my destiny."

"W-what do you mean?" Chris asked, suddenly frantic. Wesker was speaking in riddles and that thing has begun to move. But Wesker didn't have time to talk before the creature's eyes opened—white and utterly devoid of any soul. Raising a hand, the Tyrant slammed it against the glass a few times, the sound of it cracking ringing heavily through Chris' ears. Stepping back, he hit the counter and stopped as the glass finally broke, shards flying everywhere into the room as it freed itself.

He watched in complete horror as it stepped out, its heartbeat loud and overbearing. It didn't seem fazed at all by the possible pain when its feet made contact with the glass shards, and simply looked around the room carefully—inspecting it like a newborn child. It was at that point Chris realized the monster was far too close to Wesker. Trying to shout out to warn him, he watched in terror as everything began to slow down. Moving forward, he wanted to grab Wesker as the monster lifted its claw, but he felt like he was running through water, his knees buckling in on him as the monster closed in.

For a second, Chris thought Wesker was going to move—that he was going to have enough time. But then it struck.

Screaming out Wesker's name, Chris watched the claws from the Tyrant swing through Wesker's abdomen like butter, ripping a gigantic hole in his chest. He could see the claws leave through Wesker's back, coated in blood and flesh, before Wesker's body was lifted up like a rag doll and tossed across the room. Chris' voice soon died on his lips as his eyes stayed transfixed on the claws that were now coated in blood. There was no way Wesker survived that…

Not doing a thing, he realized the Tyrant had turned its attention to him, and he couldn't seem to get his body to move as it approached. He couldn't think properly, none of it making sense. He had just seen Wesker be killed, and yet he couldn't properly piece it together in his head. Everything was abstract in thought, and the fact that Wesker was _dead_ had no real meaning to him at that very moment.

Once again, Chris found himself not believing what he had clearly seen.

Still staring at its claws, he knew it was coming closer and closer, but he still couldn't move, God damn it! He watched as the claws rose again, the muscles in the arm of the Tyrant twitching as it held back its true power until the last second. The blood dripped off of the claws, making morbid patterns form across the cement floor. One more second and that thing would have him. One more second—

"Chris!"

Ducking just in time, Chris dodged as the Tyrant stumbled forward, its claws raised. Tripping a little, he went with the momentum and rolled across the floor, stopping short of another tube before he looked over his shoulder to see Jill and Barry there, Richard's shotgun in Jill's hands and Barry's magnum in his own.

Never had Chris been so happy to hear his own voice yelled out loud. If he hadn't been snapped out of that daze, he'd have lost his head. But he didn't have time to think about that as the Tyrant made move towards the two of them at the door. Pulling his gun out, he fired without thinking, hitting the Tyrant in the shoulder a few times. The bullets seemed to do little to slow it down, though, and acted more as pesky flies flying around its face rather than actual bullets. But it seemed to distract the creature long enough that Jill could move out of the way and Barry could lay a good hit near its heart with his magnum.

Letting out a low rumble deep within its chest, the Tyrant stumbled back from the impact of the magnum round, but seemed fine otherwise, making all three of them gasp.

"What the hell is this thing?" Jill shouted as Chris scrambled upwards, his body running on pure adrenaline now.

"I-I don't know!" he shouted, and truthfully he didn't know. But he wasn't going to think about it as it started to move towards them again.

"Well shoot it!" Barry yelled, and he managed to get another shot in before the Tyrant swung and hit two of the large test tubes behind them, glass and water flying everywhere. Jill got caught up in the torrents of water, and Chris tried to hold her up while Barry finally got a shot in its heart.

It seemed to slow it down even more, but it was still coming at them with a terror that was felt by all. Collecting herself enough, Jill stood her ground and moved out of the way just in time as it turned on her. Almost slipping on a glass shard, Chris backed up and began firing the last of his bullets, distracting the monster enough so that it would come after him. He was terrified—completely and utterly terrified as it looked at him with soulless eyes. For a second, his flight instinct kicked in, images of himself being impaled flashing across his eyes. How could he ever be able to take it down with a few handgun bullets?

But he stayed where he was, and hoped Barry and Jill could get a clear shot as it approached him with a steady and determined gate, its footsteps eerily quiet across the wet, dirty floor. Squeezing his eyes shut as it raised its claws, Chris brought his arm up in an attempt to protect his face from it, and was ready to feel its claws cut through him before the sound of a shotgun ran loudly through the room.

The Tyrant faltered enough that it didn't strike with its claws, but managed to use the momentum of its stumble to its advantage, and hit Chris—hard.

Flying through the air, he could feel a rib snap from the impact, but didn't have time to think about the pain before he slammed heavily onto the ground, body flopping and skittering across the tile. Keeping his eyes closed, Chris tried to get his breathing to return, his body instinctually curling in on itself as every breath became a struggle. He realized he had lost his gun when he fell, and groped around in hopes of finding it. But his hand came in contact with something sticky and warm instead.

Not wanting to open his eyes but knowing he had to, Chris looked up at the ceiling, his breathing finally becoming a little easier as he grabbed his knife. He had no idea what was going on around him, Jill and Barry's shouts resounding about the room followed by some more gunshots. Not being able to sit up, he tried to roll over to at least see what was going on, and was halfway there before a loud crash was heard, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the ground.

"Fuck you!" he could hear Jill yell, followed by some scared but relieved laughter from Barry. Shifting his eyes, Chris saw the Tyrant lying on the ground; its still body not even twitching as death finally clutched the abomination. Barry was currently kicking it with his foot as water from one of the tubes seeped towards him. He tried to smile and feel the same relief they felt, but instead he gazed down at his hand and saw red.

What he had touched was blood…

Ignoring the tightening in his chest and side as he moved, he turned slightly to see Wesker's body lying close to his own, crumpled in a pitiful heap. Trying to remember how to breathe, Chris stared at Wesker's still form, all of the blood and torn fabric appearing to him, but not meaning a thing.

If it wasn't for the gore—if it wasn't for the absolute stillness—it would have looked as if he was simply sleeping.

The sound of an alarm went off in the background, and red lights began to flash all within the room, but Chris didn't notice any of that as he stared at the body of his lover and his betrayer; as he stared at the body of Albert Wesker.

He was dead… Dead, dead, dead. He wouldn't think again, he wouldn't breathe again, wouldn't speak or laugh or yell or smile anymore… He was just… gone.

If Chris touched him… would he still be warm?

Or would he be cold?

Finding himself reaching out, Chris stared at Wesker's cheekbone, the only part of his body that wasn't marred in some fashion—that wasn't coated in blood and bruises. Watching his hand approach the still form, Chris had an out of body experience, and he felt as if he wasn't the one moving his hand. It was as if someone else was doing it, and he was an observer on the sidelines, completely detached from the events that were going on. The flash of the red lights hit Wesker's unmarred cheek numerous times, and still nothing mattered except for his hand and the distance between it and the body slowly getting smaller… and smaller… and—

"Chris!" Jerking back, Chris felt Jill's hand on his shoulder, preventing him from touching the body as she tried to pull him upwards. "R-Rebecca started the self-destruct sequence! We have to move."

"H-he died," Chris stuttered out as Jill pulled him upright, his side screaming out in pain as he continued to look down at Wesker. She was holding him up under his shoulder, and he stumbled away with her, eyes finally leaving Wesker. For a second, Chris wanted to run back, to shake Wesker and make sure he was dead and wasn't just hurt. It was irrational and stupid and completely foolhardy to think such a thing, but he couldn't help but think that if he didn't check, they could be killing Wesker by leaving him.

Leave no man behind.

But finally the sirens in the room broke through the fog in his head, and he winced when the screeching sound of the alarm hit his eardrums in full force. Following Jill, he tried to keep himself upright as his entire right side howled at him in pain. His head hurt, his side hurt, his legs hurt—everything hurt.

But Jill by his side and the numbing feeling that came with the pain started to take its effect, and he somehow found the strength to pull away from Jill when they had all crammed into the elevator. Rebecca had at some point joined them, and he was somewhat aware she was frantically talking to Barry as they ascended.

When the door to the helicopter pad opened, bright daylight shone on all of them, and Chris noticed all three of his companions were relaxing already, their eyes no longer wide and their stances no longer so guarded. They were going to be okay…

But Chris still felt like he was stuck down in the laboratory, his entire being just… numb. Following them out of the elevator, he clutched his side carefully, and could feel the broken rib twisting around in there, catching on cartilage every so often, making him gasp for breath. Standing back, he, Jill, and Rebecca watched Barry set the flare, and he couldn't help but let out a soft sigh as the sound of a helicopter grew overhead.

"Oh, thank God!" Jill cried out, relief dripping off of every single syllable. Grabbing Chris' free hand, Jill clutched it tightly, and he tipped himself against her as the wind from the helicopter whipped around them. In his weakened state, Chris felt like he was going to fall over from the power of the blades above the helicopter pushing the air around, but a squeeze from Jill's hand kept him upright long enough that he could clamber into the helicopter and collapse onto the floor.

He could feel Barry's strong hands manipulate him around, and he was soon leaning properly against the wall of the aircraft, shoulder pressed against the cool metal as he continued to clutch his side. He felt that if he removed his hand, his rib would pop out of his skin, and he wasn't prepared to deal with _that_.

"We're good!" He could hear Barry's booming voice over the sound of the blades, followed by a few rough slams against the back of the wall beside Chris' head—Barry's fist making it to alert Brad that they could depart.

Closing his eyes as they rose, Chris kept them squeezed shut as the helicopter gently rocked from side to side, the warmth from the morning light seeping into all of their worn bodies as it permeated the cockpit. Finally opening his eyes, he watched the sun rise over the horizon, and didn't even flinch as the sound of the mansion exploding resonated throughout the forest.

"It's over," Jill said, her voice soft but still loud enough to be heard in the small space.

"We made it out—all of us, alive and well. We're going to be fine," Barry said, and he said it with so much conviction that almost everyone could believe it.

"Y-yeah, we'll be just fine…" Rebecca said.

Dropping his gaze down to his hand, Chris simply stared at his blood-coated fingers.

* * *

_Bye Bye Wesker. Bye Bye Chris' sanity. Was nice knowing you! Anways, there you have it- Wesker finally did it. I know some of you guys were wondering if I was going to have Wesker actually betray them all, or perhaps have a change of heart. But come on, guys! It's Wesker we're talking about! Of course he's going to betray them all. But... but perhaps Wesker was regretful? Read it and take the scene how you would like. Either way I hope you enjoyed it! Next chapter should be in 10 days! Thanks for the read/review/favourites/support as always!_


	41. Rebirth

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Disturbing imagery, ANGST_

**Authors Note: **Hey guys, sorry for the delay. I had a little message on my profile explaining why there was a delay, and I do know a few of you read it. To those of you who sent me messages of comfort and support on FF as well as other websites, I really appreciate it. Your support was amazing, and I cherish the sympathy. Anyways, here is chapter 41, and I'd like to dedicate it to **Kaeari and DaggerArcadia**. _  
_

* * *

**Chapter 41- Rebirth**

_Change is the constant, the signal for rebirth, the egg of the phoenix._ ~Christina Baldwin~

The first twenty-four hours of a birth is always a difficult process. Humans go through 'births' numerous times during their lifetime. Birth when you enter the world, a birth when you start school, discover your passions, gain a loved one and start a family, enter a new career field, and eventually learn of your own mortality.

The first twenty-four hours of a new birth is hard. Uncertainty, trepidation, a sense of foreboding no matter how sure you are of your direction—these all can overwhelm a person to the point in which all of those feelings suddenly go away, only to be replaced by a giant vacuum that sucks away any emotion in and around them, leaving the person wondering if this twenty-four hour process was useful at all. Did one really need to step on the jungle gym for the first time at recess when they could stay inside with the teacher—a comfortable and inviting environment on your first day of school? Or did one positively have to fall in love with the girl down the street, even though you know it will never last because she's bound to become tired of your lack of direction in life? And morality—who wanted to face such a harsh and critical concept at such a young age? That was reserved for the old and wise, not the young and excited.

And yet here was Chris, sitting on a slowly lowering helicopter, the sound of the turbines loud inside the cockpit and in his head, hands covered in blood and dirt, dried sweat sticking to his forehead, and visible bags under his eyes aging him a millennia. Here he was, contemplating these very questions as he entered the first twenty-four hours of his rebirth.

7:00 AM

The harsh jostle of the helicopter landing knocked Chris out of his daze, and he looked up from his watch to see Jill's face in front of his, her blue eyes filled with exhaustion and worry. "Come on."

Giving his blood-stained hands one last look, Chris tried to get out of it—she shouldn't touch his hands, not like this. But before he could protest, she was grabbing his elbow and helping him upwards. The pain in his side had already become familiar, and he barely felt the skin and muscle rub against the cracked ribs as they left the helicopter, the sound of the propellers being replaced by shouts and yells of RPD cops as they were swarmed.

"What happened out there—"

"We thought you guys had died—"

"—lost contact and—"

"—the others, where are they?"

Chris tried to ignore all of the questions and the gazes of the men, but couldn't help but stare at the man who asked where everyone else was. Dark blue met hazel for a brief moment, a simple flash and that was that. He tried to find the man again amidst the bustle of the helipad, but found himself unable to locate the hazel eyes once more.

'The others were gone', he wanted to tell him, but realized he probably gathered his answer from the meeting of their eyes. Chris looked like a haunted man.

"Give them room."

Irons' voice rang loudly through the crowd, and immediately the noise level was cut in half, a few questions still being asked and curious looks being sent as an emergency crew showed up, bags and stretchers in their hands. Trying to take a deep breath, Chris went to straighten up, but found breathing still difficult and his muscles unwilling to cooperate.

He didn't want to go to the hospital—he didn't want to delay. They needed to tell Irons what had happened so they could do something. They had to do something so that he could stop staring at his blood-soaked hands.

He had to keep moving, otherwise—

"He's broken some ribs," Jill said, passing him over to one of the paramedics, and for a second Chris wanted to yell at her for letting him go so easily. Wasn't she concerned about the situation? Didn't she also want to fix this as soon as possible and get the truth out?

"J-Jill," Chris mumbled, trying to protest as she passed him over, but his voice was weak, throat dry and cracked after everything that had happened. A part of him realized he was dehydrated, exhausted, and in a great deal of pain—but that part was ignored in favour of wanting to get away from the grasp of blue gloved hands that were pushing him down on the stretcher.

"I-I need to talk to Irons," Chris rasped out, trying to sit up but finding it hard as they physically strapped him down. Struggling weakly, he began to grow agitated, especially now that he was being separated from everyone else. They had to fucking stick _together_.

"Not right now you don't," one of the EMTs said as she shone a flashlight in Chris' eyes.

Chris continued to struggle, and managed to catch a glimpse of Rebecca being led away with two people supporting her on either side, her legs having finally given way on her. He wanted to call out to her and see where she was going, but a sudden pressure in his arm snapped his attention away from her. What the hell was going on?

"We've injected you with a sedative and you should feel the effects soon," said the female EMT as they began to wheel him away. Again, he wanted to protest, but the medication started to kick in faster than expected, the aches and the tightness in his body suddenly disappearing, leaving him feeling even more empty than before.

"P-please… I just… I don't want to sleep…" he tried to say, but his vision became tunnelled, the lights above him becoming dim, and no longer did he feel the jostle of the medical stretcher as they wheeled him down towards the bus. But it brought no peace. He didn't want to sleep—he didn't want to close his eyes because if he did then he'd see _them_. If he slept then he would see _him_ again.

So many soulless eyes would greet him in the dream world.

"Please don't make me sleep," he said, but no one heard.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

_Thin hands were dragging him down and darkness was all around. He couldn't feel anything; couldn't see anything; hear anything; he couldn't even smell anything. All he could feel was the cold, controlling grab of those once beautiful hands, pulling him down. _

"_This doesn't feel right."_

_He should have known. Should have seen it all and yet he let himself be blind to the truth. _

"_I'll see you later, all right?"_

_If only he had done something, maybe he could see them all again. Instead, they were dragging him down as well, their cold touch sending shivers through his flesh, making him recoil and try to pull away—but where could he go? All there was was darkness. _

"_He's been working for Umbrella."_

_His nose became filled with the stench of death, and he felt like he was drowning in it. It was thick and sat in the back of his throat, making him gag. But the hands wouldn't let him go, and despite seeing nothing, he knew he was being dragged further down with them. _

"_I feel nothing for you…"_

_If only he had said that months ago. If only he had said it… If only he had listened…_

"_Stay away from me."_

_It was too late. Too late. Too God damn _late_. _

"_Shoot me!"_

_He couldn't do it, and now, here he was… lying with the dead as they pulled him under. One of the hands was now covering his mouth, preventing him from even breathing. He tried to fight it; tried to push the hand away, but to no avail. Others locked around his wrists and shoulders, keeping him still as his breathing became harder and any movement was impossible. He was paralyzed once more… Paralyzed because of his own weakness and fears. _

"_I love you."_

_I still love you._

"Chris…"

_A voice… He could hear a voice that didn't ring around him like the damned. It was real—solid and tangible. He clung to it like a lifeline as the voices in his head screamed out at him, their words full of hate and vengeance. _

"…Chris… Chris, wake up."

_There it was again, louder this time. And suddenly he could move his fingers, the icy cold grasps of the dead no longer controlling his movements. Wriggling, Chris tried to shake them off as the voice became louder and began to give him a newfound strength. Finally, the hands broke free and Chris pushed them away as he tried to walk?—swim?—run?—from them. He didn't know where he was going, but he needed to leave—needed to get up. _

_But the voices continued to scream at him, and his mind began to replay images from the past. Dead eyes and rotting flesh, menacing roars and haunting moans. Oh, no… No, don't come back—don't do this don't._

_And for a second, it all stopped. There was nothingness and he was simply suspended until…_

Gasping for air, Chris woke with a start, body jerking upwards as he tried to sit. Bright lights shot through his vision like a thousand little needles, and Chris went to close his eyes before his side screamed out at him.

Feeling hands push him down, Chris once again opened his eyes to make sure he wasn't stuck in some fucked up dream loop, and looked up to see Jill standing over him, as real as the pain in his side.

"Don't move—the painkillers only do so much," she instructed, and Chris was about to reply before he started to cough. It was wet and loud, and his ribs protested the action despite there being no way to stop it.

Trying to control the fit, he was about to curl up into a ball of pain before Jill's hands once again found his, and a cold cup was pushed into his broader ones. Taking the water, Chris chugged it quickly, not minding how it hurt his teeth and burned his throat.

"W-what's going on?" he rasped out, still hunched over like a frail old man on the bed as Jill took the glass back from him. Grasping his side, Chris felt the tender skin underneath the hospital gown, and he pressed into it experimentally to feel it stab him in the side once more.

"You're in the hospital—you've been out for hours," she said, and Chris glanced at the clock ahead of him on the wall.

4:00 PM.

"Why?" he asked, disoriented from the drugs and the nightmare. He felt like the hands were still reaching out for him, and shivered just thinking about it.

"You've broken two ribs, cut open your head which required stitches, and you've been without sleep, water, and food for almost twenty-four hours. That's why you're in the hospital," Jill said, pushing him gently back down on the bed so he was lying down. Going with the motion, Chris decided he would give up his struggle and resign himself to the fact that he was a useless lump right now.

"Where is everyone else?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. He noticed with slight annoyance that he had an IV stuck in his hand, no doubt pumping him with liquids and antibiotics of some sort.

Sitting down beside the bed on an old hospital chair, Jill ran a hand through her knotted hair before replying. "Rebecca and Barry are both being treated for minor ailments—mostly for exhaustion and dehydration. Rebecca is staying the night as well, but Barry's going home."

"As well?" Chris mumbled as he began to inspect the room now that his conscious mind was returning. It was just a regular hospital room—although he was lucky enough to get a single room. Too bad he wouldn't be staying very long.

"You're staying the night."

Shaking his head, Chris sat up slowly, his side burning but no longer stabbing. "No, we have things we've got to do." They needed to talk to Irons and sort this out. People needed to know the truth as soon as possible, and he was not going to sit by and see more people pass away because of his idiocy.

"Chris, stop moving," Jill commanded. Standing up, she pushed him down onto the bed once more, and despite the strength she used, she looked exhausted. "You're useless right now. We need to… we need to just sit for a second and think things through. We need to gather evidence, collect our story, and we _need_ to heal."

But Chris didn't want to sit around and collect his thoughts—he was trying to fucking run away from his thoughts right now, couldn't she see that? If he thought about what he had seen, heard, done, then he would never be able to function like a normal human being.

He felt like he was losing his mind right now. The stench of death still seemed to sit on him, the blood still coated his hands despite having been washed off, and dear God, the guilt was weighing on him like a ton of bricks. He felt like if he didn't keep moving—if he stopped to think—then he would lose his mind.

Perhaps it had already been lost in the labs underneath a destroyed mansion, though…

Giving up, Chris collapsed back on the bed and stared off at the wall to his left, avoiding Jill's gaze. "Are you really fine with just staying here when we know the truth?"

"Chris… A day. A day is all I ask."

Twenty-four hours.

"Fine," he whispered after a minute of silence, his jaw clenching as he tried to push back the frustration and anger. "We'll fucking wait."

He could hear her sigh, but didn't turn to comfort her despite the remorse he was feeling for being so rude to her. He was the one who said they had to stick together, and now he was already pushing them away. Not hearing her leave or move, Chris continued to stare at the off-white wall before slowly turning to gaze at her. She looked exhausted, frightened, and close to tears… but there was a strength there. A determination that he wished he could take hold of and use for himself.

"What happened in the labs?" she asked after their eyes locked, her bottom lip wet and swollen after chewing on it from nerves.

And just like that, it slammed into him once again—that incredible pressure and tightness in his chest that prevented him from breathing or forming a coherent thought. Don't ask him about that—anything about that. He didn't want to even think of that name.

"Nothing."

"Chris… Chris, what happened?"

Swallowing thickly, Chris kept his eyes locked with Jill's, determined not to break it in fear of what that would tell her. What would he tell her, though? That Wesker was working for Umbrella, used them all as pawns, and threw them away? Those were the easy things—the cold, hard facts about Wesker's ultimate behaviour. It would be easy to tell everyone that… It would be easy in time.

But what about the part about how he had seen it all happen and yet did nothing? That he was the one who could have made a difference—stopped blinding himself because of his connection to Wesker for just one God damn second to see what he really was… This all could have been prevented if he had just opened his eyes. But he took the selfish route and chose to love than to question; chose the embraces and the tender kisses in exchange for the truth. How could he tell her—_them_—that what had happened down in the labs was his ultimate downfall, one that he brought upon himself and everyone else?

Most of all, how could he explain that one of the many, many reasons he was so distraught was because despite it all, despite everything that had happened, the sight of Wesker's dead, lifeless body lying beside him brought an unprecedented amount of pain and sorrow—so much so that he felt he would crumble into a million little pieces if the image of the body flashed through his mind once more?

She would never understand—he didn't even understand it himself. If that was the type of person he fell in love with; if Wesker was the type of man he would throw everything he had, including his morality, away for… then what did that make him? What did his love for Wesker say about him as a person?

Sighing softly, Chris closed his eyes, breaking their intense gaze in favour of darkness once more. "A monster happened…"

* * *

**XX**

* * *

1 AM

Staring at the clock on the wall, Chris listened to the seconds tick by, his eyes straining in the low light that was emanating from a small bedside table lamp. Fiddling with the corner of his blanket, he just continued to stare at the clock, letting his mind go blank.

He didn't want to sleep because every time he closed his eyes, they were all sitting there—waiting for him. So he sat by himself in the hospital room, hands fiddling and twitching, betraying his seemingly relaxed attitude. The nurse who had the night shift had come in a few times and offered to give him some sleeping pills, and every time he refused. The first two times she offered, he just told her no thank you and fought her on it kindly.

The third time she arrived, he decided to tell her why he did not want to sleep—detailing the images of his dead friends and loved ones who tried to pull him under into a dark abyss every time he so much as closed his eyes for longer than a minute. He told her about the sounds he heard and the smells he could feel on the back of his tongue, choking him.

She had not returned since then, and Chris preferred it that way.

Letting out a soft sigh, he grimaced as his side let out a painful little twinge, its own way of protesting the expansion of his lungs. He had been given medication to ease the pain, but with two broken ribs not much could be done until it healed properly. He would just have to wait on it. The crack in the back of his head was also painful, but only if he touched it—something he did on occasion when he forgot about it.

Watching the minutes go by could distract him well enough that he even forgot about his physical aches and pains for a time.

But watching the minutes pass by also made Chris grow antsy. He was all too aware now of how much time was going by without him doing anything. He had promised Jill that they would wait a day before they did anything, but waiting around could hurt them. They needed to do something, anything!

Growling softly, Chris finally tore his gaze away from the clock to glare at his IV. It was only recommended that he stay the night, it wasn't an order and they couldn't make him stay if he didn't want to. Peeling away the tape on the back of his hand, he pulled out the IV and tossed it off of the bed so it dangled from the metal hook.

Rubbing the raw skin, he got out of bed carefully, mindful of his side as he ventured towards the dresser where his clothes had been placed. Pulling them out, he pushed past the disgust he felt looking at the STARS patch, and placed the dirty clothes back on. He would worry about the dirt, sweat, and bloodstains on it later—right now he was not leaving the hospital in a fucking gown.

Taking off the aforementioned hospital gown, Chris tossed it on the bed before dressing with care, ignoring the large bruise on his side. Slipping his combat boots on, Chris searched the room for his other belongings, but realized most of his things had been taken away for security reasons. Going to the sink in the corner near the toilet, he ran some cold water and washed his hands and his face, scrubbing away the weariness and exhaustion if only for a moment.

Looking up from the water running out of the tap, Chris caught his reflection in the cheap mirror above the sink, the left corner cracked. Staring at the crack, he did not want to turn his attention to his own reflection, but eventually lowered his gaze to stare at himself.

The first thing he saw—the only thing he saw, really—was a set of haunted eyes staring back at him; haunted, weary eyes. Bringing a hand up, he rubbed the bags under his eyes gently, feeling the puckered skin under his touch. He looked dead.

Shaking his head, Chris pulled away from the mirror, sick of looking at himself even if it was for only a moment. Giving the room a once-over, he was satisfied that he wasn't leaving anything behind, and left the room to enter the quiet hospital hallway, the lights dim save for the end where the nurses' station was. Heading towards it, Chris paused at the station, eyes blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness.

"Can I help you?" one of the nurses asked, her voice soft as if she was afraid she would wake a patient up.

"I'm checking out," he said, approaching the desk with confidence, despite his side yelling at him to stop stretching the muscles.

"Are you sure?" Chris nodded in response, and waited patiently as she grabbed the required forms, although she looked less than pleased. "You'll have to come back tomorrow for your belongings, Mr. Redfield. We've locked them up in security and we cannot access them at the moment."

Shrugging, he filled the forms out with ease, doing the bare minimum required so he could just get the hell out of the hospital. He didn't need his gun or knife where he was going… or so he hoped. Finishing up, he placed the pen back down on the desk and passed her the folders, just as she passed him a small pill bottle and a note.

"Take these every four hours to ease the pain of your side—this note is a prescription so you can pick some more up next week when you run out. You'll also need to come in to the hospital or go to your family doctor in ten days to have the sutures in your head removed."

"Thanks," he said, taking the bottle and stuffing it in his vest pocket.

"I just would like to tell you that this is a very unwise decision. Both you and your partner should have stayed the night, at least," she added just as Chris was turning around to leave. Pausing when he heard 'partner', he raised an eyebrow and turned back around.

"Who left?"

"Your partner from work—Rebecca Chambers, I believe. She checked out about ten minutes before you showed up."

Furrowing his brow, Chris stared at the nurse for a second before thanking her again and leaving. Rebecca had left, too. But why? Perhaps she was just as antsy to get out, or maybe her medical knowledge let her know she really did not need to stay the night—the best sleep you could get would be at home.

Rubbing his eyes, he navigated his way through the hallways to the elevator, and took it down to the main floor. Going through a few more twisting bends and following numerous signs, Chris finally reached the main entrance, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the double doors that would lead him to fresh air.

He really just wanted to breathe in fresh air that was alive with scent of life—even if it was polluted. Being in the musty, rank mansion and labs for hours made Chris feel nauseous after a time, and those brief interventions outside was what kept him alive for most of the time.

It was amazing what the open sky could do for a person.

Stepping out, Chris was careful not to breathe in too deeply, and just took short breaths of the cold, crisp air, ever mindful of his side. This was… nice. For the first time in who knew how long, Chris felt like he didn't have to look over his shoulder every five seconds in fear of what he'd see approaching him down a hallway.

"Chris?"

Jumping, Chris' little peace bubble was burst, and he swung his head to the left to see Rebecca sitting on the curb, arms wrapped around her small frame as she stared up at him with her big, blue eyes.

"Rebecca," he said, his heart rate slowing down enough for him to actually form words other than 'Jesus Christ' or 'shit'. "What are you doing here?"

"I… I don't know. Sitting, I guess. Enjoying the outside." Shrugging, she rubbed her arms a couple of times before standing up, hands going to dust off the back of her pants. "I couldn't stay in the hospital for the night, so I decided to leave because I was well enough. But I don't think you should be out just yet."

Rolling his eyes, Chris stuffed one hand in his pants pocket. "I couldn't stay the night, either."

He could feel Rebecca's gaze on him, gauging his health in the way doctors do, before she finally looked away. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere," he said, realizing how childish that sounded but not wanting to reveal his true intentions.

"Liar—I may not have known you for long, but I know you're going to try and do something about what happened at the mansion," she began, and Chris knew she was going to tell him to go home and wait it out, just like Jill had before. He hated the voice of reason. But then… then she surprised him. "I want in."

Raising an eyebrow, he caught her gaze as she turned once more to look at him, determination on her features. Realizing she would probably fight him on it even further, Chris decided it wouldn't hurt to take her.

"Fine," he said, walking over to a stopped taxi that was waiting outside the hospital. He had some cash on him in one of his vest pockets, and he wasn't about to walk to his place to grab his Jeep, nor was he going to walk to his ultimate destination. He could hear Rebecca follow behind, and let her get in before he scooted in the back along with her.

"Where to?" the driver asked, and Chris gave him the directions quickly, wanting to just get this over with.

"Where are we going?" Rebecca asked after a time, the taxi driver taking a leisurely pace through the city, obviously not as anxious as Chris was.

"Just to a place," he said, his seatbelt forgotten beside him as he sat forward, one hand on the back of the chair in front of him. He just had to keep thinking about his goal and not about anything else. Find information on Umbrella—that was it. Nothing else… This wasn't for anything else.

The ride was spent in tense silence, and Chris spared Rebecca a few glances to see how she was doing. She seemed caught up in her own world as well, her attention outside the taxi on the shops and houses passing by. Soon enough they arrived at their destination, and he paid the driver before turning his attention to the apartment building in front of him.

"Who lives here?" Rebecca asked as they walked to the main doors.

"Wesker does… Wesker _did_ live here," he mumbled just as his watch flashed 2:00 AM. He hated having to come here too early after the events, when the wound was still raw and exposed, but it had to be done. If there was any information to be gained, his apartment would be the most fruitful to explore. He had never really looked around when he was invited over numerous times, having spent most of his time in the bedroom and attention on other things.

But Wesker's office must have held some important documents, especially considering how much time he spent in there. Almost every time he woke up and Wesker wasn't there, he was in his office doing something. Picturing the pristine room in his head, Chris scanned the outside of the building, realizing he had no way of getting in.

"Look," Rebecca said, bringing his attention to the door to see the latch had been busted open. It was remarkably well done—the metal only being pulled a fraction until it popped the lock. Unfortunately, this did little to ease Chris' nerves as he opened the main doors with ease.

Stepping in first, Chris held the door for Rebecca and let her in before heading to the elevators. "Stay on guard—you never know what we might find," he said, his heart rate increasing as his head began to pound. Someone had been here already, or perhaps they were still here. And whoever wanted that information was probably not an ally.

"How do you know where he lives?" she asked as they entered the elevator and Chris pressed the button to the appropriate floor, an action he wished was not so familiar.

"I helped him home once after an accident," he said, not lying at all for once.

Exiting the elevator when they reached the right floor, Chris walked to his right towards Wesker's apartment, the fear, guilt, and sorrow threatening to throw him off his game completely. He began to shake as they neared the door, and he willed the flashbacks to go away. If he closed his eyes it was like he was just going to visit Wesker after a stressful day at work. He could smell his cologne and feel his shoulder brush his own… If only he hadn't…

"Chris, are you all right?" Rebecca asked, her soft voice breaking him out of his daze. Coming back to reality, Chris honed in on his anger instead of his grief, and nodded.

"Yeah, sorry," he said as they stopped in front of the sleek black door. Eying it for a moment, Chris assessed its outer appearance to see if he could notice anything different. It seemed all in order, and he hesitantly reached out to the handle. Grasping it, he turned it experimentally, and heard a soft click—indicating it was open and not locked like it should be. "You ready?"

"Yes," Rebecca replied, and Chris, for a second, was thankful she came along. Swinging the door open, Chris braced himself for whatever could come through, but was greeted with dead silence and a dark room.

Stepping forward, he flicked on the main hall light, and peeked down the small hallway to look into the living room—or what was once a living room. What had once been a clean and orderly room was now a complete mess, the couch pushed to the side, books thrown around the room and tossed on the floor, the television unplugged and pushed into a corner, and expensive decorations accidentally smashed or pushed over. Papers were scattered everywhere, and Chris bent down to pick one sheet up to see it was an electricity bill. Finding a few others, he realized most of them were bills or police reports—nothing of interest or use.

"Looks like someone was here before us," he mumbled, standing up slowly to prevent his side from kicking him. Tossing the papers on the ground, Chris stepped over a broken picture frame and ventured towards the office to see what else he could find. Unfortunately, the office was almost completely vacant save for an empty desk, a book on the fall and rise of the Roman Empire, and a stack of blank papers. Everything else had been taken away somewhere. Well, this was useful.

Shutting the door behind him, Chris continued to look around the apartment, hoping whoever had come through here had missed something, but it looked like they hadn't. They had even taken some of Wesker's clothes—the closet having been opened and thoroughly searched.

"I think Umbrella's lackeys went through here," he said as he ventured back into the living room to speak to Rebecca. He felt disappointed, but also relieved at the same time. Disappointed because they found nothing, but relieved because despite being in the apartment of a man who was causing such a clusterfuck of emotions, he was keeping everything in check. He wasn't yelling or tearing things down, and he wasn't crying and mourning the loss of a man who deserved to die.

He was doing well until…

"Chris… What is this?"

Raising an eyebrow, Chris approached Rebecca with a certain amount of apprehension, her back to him as she held something in her hands. Peeking over her shoulder, he caught only a glimpse of the object before she turned around and passed it to him. Taking the photo in his rough hands, he flipped it over to gaze at the image before him.

It was the photograph—the one Chris had taken on the last day of happiness for him. There they were, smiling and kissing, the epitome of the perfect couple. He and Wesker looked so happy and relaxed; so in love with one another. And yet it was all just a horrible, horrible lie—a lie that someone else now knew. Not knowing what to do or say as Rebecca gazed upon his dirty little secret, Chris stayed rooted on the spot, his hands shaking as he stared at the photo with abject horror. His vision began to swim, and he looked up at Rebecca with pain in his eyes.

"I am so sorry," he whispered as she locked eyes with him. And he could hear her say something, and he knew she was trying to get through to him, but all he could really hear was the beating of his heart and the sound of his breathing as the world began to grow dark, his body unable to handle the extremes he was putting it through.

Exhaustion, fear, grief, and panic all set in, and the last thing he saw was the curve of Wesker's lips in the photograph before he fainted, his body finally giving in.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Keeping his eyes closed, Chris feared to open them as he lay on a soft mattress, head cushioned by what he assumed was a pillow. A slightly familiar scent invaded his senses, but Chris could not pinpoint it exactly as he continued to lie still. He did not know where he was or how he got there, but what he did know was that he had no nightmares. As soon as he had passed out, his body shut everything down—including his overactive mind. There was a small blessing, and he clung to it with vigour.

Breathing steadily, he felt his side ache with every breath but did nothing about it, his eyes still closed as he hung on the edge of sleep and consciousness. But he seemed to be waking up more and more, and soon he heard the sound of two females speaking far away, their voices soft and soothing.

Jill and Rebecca.

Finally opening his eyes, Chris gazed up at a white ceiling, and realized he was in Jill's apartment, the smell all around him that of her lavender shampoo. Shifting, Chris turned his head a little to see he was lying on her bed, bright yellow blankets wrapped around him tightly. Not wanting to get up and leave the safety the room brought him, he kept quiet and laid on the bed, pretending to be anyone but Chris Redfield.

7:00 AM. He had survived the first twenty-four hours… Barely.

* * *

_ Again, sorry for the delay. Numerous things came up and... yeah. Personal matters were more important at the time. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter! only 4 more to go before State of Flux is done and the sequel can begin! Love you all!_


	42. Grief

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Nothing  
_

**Authors Note: **I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Margarette. Miss you. _  
_

* * *

**Chapter 42- Grief**

_Sorrow makes us all children again - destroys all differences of intellect. The wisest know nothing._ ~Ralph Waldo Emerson~**  
**

They say that grief comes in five stages.

First: Denial—it wasn't happening. What you saw; what you heard; what others wanted you to believe; it was all just a lie. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Second: Anger and aggression—a refusal to see death for what it is and a defiance against it. Death was unfair and uncompromising and you just want to say '_fuck it'_ to Death himself. But he'll get everyone, and when that time comes…

Third: Bargaining—just a little more time with them, that's all you need. Don't take them away so early or at least let you say goodbye the proper way. Just don't take them away!

Fourth: Depression—it was meaningless. Their deaths proved nothing and aided no one, so why did they have to die? Why did you survive and the others die? What was the purpose of such deaths and why did you survive and continue to thrive when so many around you are rotting in the ground?

Fifth: Acceptance—an impossibility.

Standing in front of the mirror located on his closet door, Chris stared at his own reflection, his hands fiddling with a tie. Watching the movements of his hands, Chris spared his face only a fleeting glance, knowing fully well what he would see. Bags under his eyes, hair seemingly in order though dull in colour, and skin pale, more so than it should be given the season.

For the past week since the incident, Chris had slept very little—the occasional cat nap here and there when he felt safe enough to close his eyes. It usually happened when he was in the presence of others, such as Jill or Barry. Ever since the mansion, they hadn't been apart for very long, the five of them not wanting to lose each other even though the perceived danger was gone.

When they had been together, they didn't talk about what had happened. The twenty-four hours that Jill had requested they wait turned into two days, then three, until a week had passed and nothing had been said. Barry suggested they wait until after the memorial—they could begin to move on and save the world after their friends and compatriots had been laid to rest—an idea everyone agreed with. Besides, Irons made it clear that he wanted them all to go to therapy before getting involved with the investigations, something Chris had no intention of doing.

Of course Chris was desperate to get to work, but his mental state would not permit him to do anything remotely productive. In addition to having debilitating nightmares and an increase in paranoia due to living in the city that was run by the cooperation that ruined his life, Chris was also grieving for the loss of his friends and his… his lover.

He saw their faces when he closed his eyes, heard their laughter behind his own when he found the occasion to let out a small chuckle, and he swore he could feel the gentle pat on his shoulder—the kind of ones Forest would give him when he would walk by. Chris knew it was crazy, and that a normal person wouldn't be experiencing these things, but he clung to the memories of his friends despite knowing the dangers. They were gone—dead and not coming back. The sooner he accepted this, the sooner he could move on; but it was all so much easier said than done. Chris wanted to continue to live in the delusion if just for a moment longer.

And then there was Wesker—there was always Wesker. Chris tried to stop thinking about him, he tried to push past any previous feelings he may have had and concentrate on the anger, frustration, and betrayal, but all of those feelings were inextricably linked to his romantic past with Wesker. It wasn't enough that he had to kill and destroy for the chance of glory, but he also had to take Chris down with him, breaking his compass on the way so he could no longer find his way back to safety.

Chris felt like he was floating out to sea, the call of the sirens ringing in his ears as the waves swirled around under him, hiding the monsters and creatures that lurked below that would swallow him up whole like he was Jonah. And all the while, Wesker was sitting across from him on the little boat, his chest a massive bloody hole and his face serene and composed—assured he was of his victory.

It was stupid. Even in his death Wesker was controlling him, preventing him from focusing on the important shit in life like stopping Umbrella, saying goodbye to those who passed, and moving the fuck on with his life.

Fuck him… Fuck Wesker. He deserved it—he deserved to feel the pain of something ripping his heart out and shoving him away. He deserved to _die_.

Tugging at his tie, Chris' frustration grew and grew until he had given up on it. Ripping it off from around his neck, he tossed it across the room before storming away from the window, a shaky hand rising to run through his already dishevelled hair. Stopping his march away from the mirror when he reached the window, he rubbed the back of his neck, shoulders hunched as he stared at the floor, the anger he felt once again leaving, instead replaced with dread.

Sighing, he returned to the bedroom and picked the tie up off of the bed, creases apparent on the black material after his numerous attempts to tie it right. His mind had been elsewhere for so long that he had lost track of time, and jumped when there was a buzz near his door, his side seizing from the sudden twitch in the muscles. Stuffing the tie in the pocket of his black slacks, Chris went to answer the receiver, ignoring the pain he felt in his side.

"Hey, I'll let you up," he said, pushing the button as he spoke, already knowing who was on the other side. He was about to release and open the door when he heard Barry speak up, voice loud.

"Is it all right if Kathy and the kids come up, too?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied, deciding he wouldn't argue. It wasn't like Kathy was going to reprimand him on his housekeeping skills on a day like today anyways. Unlocking the door, Chris opened it a fraction before going to the kitchen, wringing his hands as he did so. Maybe they would like something to drink before they left? Or maybe they would just come up and then they would leave to go to the memorial. Would there be refreshments and food at this sort of thing? Maybe they would all get hungry and he'd be a poor houseguest for not having offered them anything when they came, and perhaps—

"Chris?"

Stopping his pacing, Chris looked up from the tiled floor in his kitchen to see Barry standing in his small living room by the door, his sombre family surrounding him. He was wearing your classic funeral clothes—black jacket, black slacks, polished black shoes, and a black tie… so much black. No wonder darkness instilled thoughts of death and nothingness.

But his attention soon flicked to Kathy and their two little girls; only they weren't so little anymore. They were growing up fast, their faces still youthful but their stance that of young women and no longer children. Staring at them, Chris realized how close they had come to losing everything… how close they had come to losing their father just like he had lost his long ago.

It hurt—it physically hurt—to look at them as a family unit. They had come so close to losing it all, and a large part of Chris was relieved that Barry had made it, that he had come back home when so many others hadn't. But at the same time, a small part of Chris—a very small part—resented them. Barry had support—he had someone to help him along his way and people to fight for. What did he have?

Snapping his gaze away from them, Chris slowly pulled the tie out of his pocket, hand shaking. "Did you want anything to drink? A glass of water or maybe some orange juice?"

"We're fine," Barry said, and Chris could see him move more into the living room, his family following close behind. "Are you… Are you ready to go?"

"I don't have my tie on," he mumbled, hand squeezing down on the black silk as he desperately tried to quell such nasty, vindictive, and self-pitying feelings. It wasn't fair to think like that—he was better than that, or at least he thought he was…

"Let me help with that," Kathy said, her voice soft and low, lulling Chris into a sense of some comfort. Finally looking up at them, he let Kathy approach him and passed her the tie before facing her directly. She was efficient with it, and managed to tie it in mere moments, her touches and tugs grounding while her perfume of rose buds and lavender comforted him further. Staring at her shoulder, Chris waited until she was done before thanking her and turning his attention to Barry, who Polly and Moira had now pressed close to.

"You ready now?"

Nodding, Chris thanked Kathy again and let her and her children leave before following Barry. Shutting and locking the apartment door, Chris sighed and followed the four of them down the hallway to the elevator, the sound of their feet muffled against the cheap, grey carpet. Wesker hated that carpet…

The elevator ride was filled with more silence, save for Polly asking who would be sitting in the back of the car with them. Kathy volunteered.

"It's mundane," Chris whispered as they left the elevator, voicing his thoughts aloud. Barry turned his attention from the glass doorway to him, an eyebrow raised, waiting for Chris to finish his thought. "Death… mourning… grief… it's all so mundane."

"How do you mean?"

"The process we go through… it's mundane and boring. We sit and we mourn—reminisce about those who passed and wonder why they left. We spend so much time in our own heads, breaking apart and dissecting everything to the smallest detail, and all the while we live our life as we normally do… that same mundane, routine life we've become accustomed to. There are no explosions, no epiphanies, no appreciation for what we still have… it's the same boring existence we had before, only we have to go through it all without the people we're grieving for. "

Barry was silent the entire time, and Chris found himself not even listening to what he was saying, instead focusing on the buzz of a fly near the doorway outside. Barry's van was parked outside, the red paint on it shining and glittering in the bright summer light, and Chris trailed off on his rant as they approached the vehicle, the back doors being slammed open by Polly and Moira.

Getting in the front, Chris buckled himself in, mindful of his side as he did so, and went to stare at the dashboard in front of him, dust particles floating around. Locking his fingers, he rubbed his palms together before flexing his fingers closer and then apart, only stopping when his foot began to jump.

"You're right," Barry said as he started the vehicle and drove towards the building the memorial was going to be in. "Death and life are mundane, but they are both important things to go through, despite the triviality…"

Chris just nodded and rode in silence with Barry and his family, basking in the triviality of it all.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Once again Chris found himself facing all of them, their bright eyes gazing back at him through high gloss photos, projecting an image Chris wished he could once again see in reality. Lined up in a row at the front of the room were all eight of them, their official police issued photos being used. Uniforms in order, badges present, the RPD and STARS logo sitting neatly on navy blue. Chris remembered taking his photo when he joined the RPD—remembered how it felt like his cheeks would fall off from all of the fake smiling he had to do as photo after photo was taken, none of them good enough. He was slouching too much, he looked too happy, now he looked too sad, etc. etc. etc.

He wondered if any of the others had as much difficulty with their photos as he sat down in the second row, Jill on one side with Barry on the other. He nodded briefly towards Brad, and sent Rebecca a fleeting, awkward smile. Ever since the day he passed out, the two of them had not spoken much, both of them far too jittery to do so. But from what Chris could tell, she hadn't told anyone about what she had found, giving him a small piece of mind to keep for himself. He'd talk to her eventually—about what had happened… eventually.

Instead he focused once again on the pictures in front of the room as more people filtered in; the only sound that of rustling fabric and soft footfalls on the floor. First there was Forest, then Richard, Kenneth, Kevin, Edward, Joseph, Enrico, and finally, Wesker. Chris' gaze stayed on Wesker's photograph the longest, attention wandering over the smallest details of Wesker's appearance.

High cheekbones, thin lips quirked into the smallest, barely there smile the photographer probably had to wrestle to get, hair slicked back with no strand out of place, and his eyes… steel grey and piercing, drawing him in even though they lacked warmth or caring. The eyes of a killer—the eyes of the man Chris loved.

Fidgeting once more, Chris wrestled with the emotion inside him, wishing he could find the peace and state of numbness he had found when leaving the apartment. At least then death was mundane and boring, but now… now it was becoming too much to handle.

"Chris, are you all right?" Jill whispered, her hand resting on his arm gently, snapping his gaze away from the pictures up front. Staring at the light as it reflected off of her short cut nails, Chris nodded slowly, breathing becoming easier as her touch grounded him. He was still here.

"I'm fine," he whispered back, looking up to give her an assured smile—a façade that seemed to work. She smiled back, although it was strained, and withdrew her hand before returning her gaze to the front.

Sitting as still as he could, he fixed his gaze on the podium at the front, wondering who would be carrying out the memorial and what would be said. How would they tell everyone about what had happened with the mansion and Umbrella? Perhaps they would stick to speaking about their lives and everything they had accomplished, rather than their gruesome deaths. Chris would prefer that to anything else, frankly.

He didn't have to wait long to see who would be speaking, and wasn't too terribly surprised to see Police Chief Irons approach the podium as soon as everyone had filed into the room and found a seat. He was wearing his police uniform, badges and awards shining brightly on the dark fabric that seemed a little too tight around the chest—he looked rather stuffed in the uniform, and Chris would have been amused if it were under normal circumstances. But it gave him something to stare at rather than the faces of his fallen compatriots, and he focused in on one of the shiny gold buttons that looked ready to pop from its perch upon Irons' stomach.

"We're all gathered here, as you are probably well aware of, to honour and remember the fine men of the Raccoon Police Department STARS unit who fell while active in the line of duty on July 24th," Irons began, and Chris started to fiddle with his cufflinks, fingers awkwardly unclasping and clasping them once more, his eyes still fixed on the button. "We are here today to remember Officer Joseph Frost, Officer Richard Aiken, Officer Edward Dewey, Officer and Captain Enrico Marini, Officer Forest Speyer, Officer Kenneth Sullivan, Officer Kevin Dooley, and Officer and Captain Albert Wesker."

Swallowing thickly, Chris squeezed down on his cufflink until it turned his thumb pale pink, angry red, and finally a pale white, his attention still fixed on the button, so much so that his eyes began to water a little. He needed to stay grounded—needed to find that peace once more or he would freak out and lose it. He wasn't going to cry or scream and yell, but he knew if he let go of reality for a second he'd be dragged down to that lifeless and lightless place he visited every night when he closed his eyes.

"They were all fine, upstanding men; the best of the best and our strongest. When STARS was formed to quell the unrest the city had been experiencing, these men were the first to step up and join the fray, risking their lives and subsequently losing them while serving and protecting citizens such as ourselves. Because of them, we live in our homes, safe and secure."

Chris could hear a woman begin to sob a row behind him and three seats over, and recognized her voice through the tears—it was Kenneth's wife. Clenching his jaw, he breathed heavily through his nose and continued to stare at the now fabled golden button. Just keep staring at it and everything will be just fine…

"Unfortunately, their lives were taken by an accident that no one could see coming. On July 23rd STARS Bravo team, while on a mission involving recent murder cases, lost contact with the RPD late in the evening, their communication system seemingly malfunctioning. A day was waited until Alpha team went in to find their missing compatriots, and that is when the house was discovered. Old and dilapidated, it was unsafe for humans to be inside for too long, and while exploring, a gas leak occurred. Officers Jill Valentine, Barry Burton, Rebecca Chambers, Brad Vickers, and Chris Redfield were situated outside the perimeter when the building blew, but the rest were not so lucky."

"What?" Chris whispered, his vision suddenly going dark for a second, and when he opened his eyes from closing them, the button was lost and all that was left was the rocking of the little boat as the monsters closed in. What was Irons saying? They did not die because of a gas leak and an explosion—they died because of motherfucking Umbrella, Wesker, and greed. They died because humanity had to feed humans with an uncontrollable desire for money and power. But Irons… Irons was _lying_. He was telling everyone a downright lie—and for what? What did he gain from hiding the truth of what happened?

Shaking with frustration and anger, Chris snapped his cufflink by accident, but paid it little attention as it fell to the carpeted floor under his chair. He could feel Jill and Barry stiffen beside him, but could not hear anything over the thrumming in his ears as the blood coursed through his system, adrenaline levels spiking. He had to do something—he had to say something right now or forever hold his peace.

Moving to stand up, Chris went to lock eyes with Irons, mouth already open to begin his attack before Jill reached out and pushed him back down onto his chair, her eyes wide and mouth a thin, pale line. He could see the rage in her eyes as well, and wanted to ask her what she was doing before Irons stopped his speech and a member of Forest's family approached the podium, a slip of paper and a tissue in their hand.

Suddenly he felt conflicted. He still wanted to say something—he had to say something, in fact. He was not going to stand by while another cover-up occurred in front of him. He had had enough of that bullshit with Wesker to last him a lifetime. He wanted to say something so desperately, and the adrenaline continued to pump its way through his system, hurting his head and his bruised side. But the families… they needed this. He couldn't just start yelling like a madman on their day to grieve, no matter how important it was. He would have lost it if someone dared speak up during his parents' funeral, and despite knowing how damn important it was, he knew in his heart he couldn't do it.

And so he relaxed a small fraction under Jill's touch, letting her know he wasn't going to do anything rash or uncalled for—completely against his character to be sure. But now was not the time, no matter how much he wanted it to be… Now was not the time.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

It was almost impossible to sit through the memorial after that, Chris's gaze constantly flicking between those who were grieving for their loved ones up at the front, and Police Chief Irons—a lying son of a bitch. When everything was said and done, they were broken up and given the opportunity to speak with one another to once again remember those who had fallen, an endeavour Chris feared more than anything else.

Saying his hellos and giving his condolences to the families, Chris tried to evade any questions that would lead him into dark territory, and instead concentrated on telling each and every one of them that their son/husband/brother was a great, caring, brave, and altogether amazing person, something Chris meant every word of. He knew he would never fully get over what had happened. Oddly enough, though, he met no one and saw no one who was connected to Wesker, and he wasn't sure if he was upset or relieved. If someone had shown up, what would he have said or done? Told them they allied themselves to a psychopathic bastard? Pot calling the kettle black, that was for sure.

But Chris did not care to dwell on Wesker's family life or the friends he would have, and instead hurried out of the memorial building as quickly as possible, finding it harder and harder to breathe with the photographs of all of them staring at him—judging him as he tried his hardest to converse with the people who had lost the most that fateful night. They had lost so much, and yet they didn't even know the truth as to why their sons and husbands were never coming home. Throwing open the double doors, Chris slipped out of the building and immediately went searching for that old pack of smokes he had stuffed in his jacket pocket. Pulling out the crunched box, he took one of the sticks out and attempted to light it, his hands shaking too much to get the lighter to hold a flame for more than a second.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he mumbled under his breath, the cigarette jumping in his mouth every time he swore. Flicking the lighter a few more times, Chris was beginning to lose patience with it until finally the flame stuck, and he wasted no time in bringing it up to the end of the smoke, lighting it and inhaling at the same time, breathing in the vile taste of tobacco and nicotine. Holding it in for as long as possible, Chris savoured the taste and the relaxation it brought, and exhaled slowly while he put the lighter back in his pocket.

Removing the cigarette from his lips, Chris watched the grey smoke twist and wind its way up through the air, curling around itself numerous times before it became harder and harder to see, its substance distilling itself in the clean air. Taking another long drag, he once again savoured it in his lungs before exhaling slowly, a sense of calm coming over him for that short period of time. He had survived the memorial, for what it was. He hadn't broken down, he hadn't gone too far into his own mind where cold hands and monsters lay just under the surface, and he had respected the families' need to grieve… All in all, he had done a good job with it.

But now that he was away from it all and had no appearances to keep up, he allowed himself a moment of weakness and once again indulged in a cigarette, a vice he would give up for a few weeks before returning to when things got too rough. Sitting down on the curb, Chris stared at the pavement beneath his feet, watching the light reflect off of bits of shiny asphalt, once again turning his mind off of anything that did not directly relate to the nicotine in his system and the smoke in his hand. He thought he was doing remarkably well given the situation and the fact that the RPD was instigating a giant cover-up right under their noses, and the more he thought about it, the more it became… amusing. It was completely ridiculous the amount of times he'd been pushed around and fucked with since he had moved to Raccoon—the city where he was supposed to get that fresh start and get a new direction in life. He remembered thinking Raccoon was as good as any other city to live in… Oh, how wrong he was.

Chuckling softly, Chris pinched the bridge of his nose before taking another drag of his smoke. He was so fucked up but it _was_ funny. Knowing his luck, he'd be run over by a car in the parking lot in about five minutes—and he'd probably live to tell the tale, only in a wheelchair and a full body cast. Still chuckling to himself, Chris let the smoke out in small puffs, just utterly amused at how fucking pitiful he and everything around him was. The people who were leaving the memorial gave him a few sidelong glances as they walked by, probably wondering why a man was sitting on the curb laughing to himself on a day like today, but it wasn't like he cared. He was fucked up, and he could either come to terms with it through tears and anger, or laughter—and right now, laughter was the best medicine.

That was until Barry, Jill, Brad, and Rebecca trundled out of the building, the heels of the girls clicking loudly against the cement as they approached him. Snuffing out the smoke quickly, Chris stuffed the butt in his pocket to throw away later, and rubbed his face with one hand before standing up to meet them.

"Why were you laughing?" Rebecca asked, her eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"I'm pitiful," he explained, and didn't wait for further questions before turning his attention to Barry. "Can we all meet up at the office?"

"Why?" Brad asked, and Chris spared him a glare before once again speaking to Barry.

"We need to talk about what was said in there—about this… this conspiracy."

Nodding, Barry looked at Jill. "Mind if we get a ride? Kathy needs the car to take the girls home—I doubt they'll want to wait around in a van for a couple of hours wearing funeral dresses."

"Yeah, for sure. Although you'll all have to scrunch in the back. I drove Rebecca, too."

"I've got a car," Brad chimed in, fingers playing with the keys in his hand as he squinted at Chris, the sun in his eyes. Not knowing how to reply, Chris just stood awkwardly, not wanting to tell Brad that if he got into a vehicle with him he'd probably try and kill him for what he did back at the mansion.

"I'll ride with Brad," Barry said quickly, and Chris could have kissed him for taking one for the team. He knew Barry was none too pleased with Brad either, but at least he'd be able to rein in his temper. Years of experience, a marriage, and two kids gave Barry the patience and understanding of a Saint. Nodding, Brad smiled softly and trailed off to his beat up truck as Barry went to talk to Kathy who was standing under an awning in the shade, Polly and Moira fidgeting in their dresses.

"So I guess we're going to the office, then… Is that the best place, though? I mean, there are eyes and ears all over the place," Rebecca said, rubbing her eyes to clear away the residue from her tears.

"We've got nothing to hide—it's the RPD and Umbrella who have something to hide," Chris said, shrugging as they walked to the car. This was good for him—throwing himself into this so that he did not have time to stop and think about how fucked up he was. If he and the rest of them all worked together to figure out what the hell was going on and eventually protect the people of Raccoon, then he wouldn't have time to analyse his own psyche—no matter how bad that was for his eventual mental health.

"You're awfully eager," Jill said, almost as if she was reading Chris' mind.

"We've waited on this for long enough, Jill. The memorial is over and they're… they're all gone. So it's our job to fix this and set things straight. Irons and everyone else need to know Umbrella was behind this and we need to get our story straight so we can help everyone," he said, conviction in his voice as he floated along in his boat with Wesker, the coast still not in sight.

"I agree," Rebecca said, wringing a tissue in her hands as they stood in a small circle near the car. "We should let everyone know what's going on—we can't let Umbrella continue to do what they're doing, not when so many people have died already."

Nodding, Chris sent a small smile to Rebecca, glad she was in on this with him. They needed to be united to get through this. "You with us?"

"Of course," Jill said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm with you guys all the way, I'm just… nervous. I mean, what we saw makes us dangerous to Umbrella, and we've seen what they can do to someone. Perhaps we should exercise a little caution."

"You saying I'm not cautious?" Chris asked, teasing a little. Jill caught on to it and smiled softly, a hand reaching out to rub his arm gently.

"Let's get going," Rebecca chimed in, breaking the familiarity and comfort for them all—a thing they had not experienced ever since the death of most of their friends. Sometimes it was hard to enjoy such moments when you knew how many people had passed that used to share in them.

Following Jill to her small black Volkswagen, Chris jumped into the back and let Rebecca ride shotgun. He was entirely too big for the back of the vehicle, but sucked it up and pulled his knees up, ignoring the protest of his side. His ribs were slowly healing and the bruise didn't look quite as dark. It now had a more yellowish tint to it—disgusting, but a good sign. He tried to forget about it most of the time, but sometimes he found himself standing in front of the mirror, finger tracing the outline of the bruise as he once again returned to the mansion in his mind, seeing the claws dripping with blood…

"—Chris!"

Snapping out of his daze, he slowly removed his hand from his side and looked up from the back of Jill's chair to stare at Rebecca, her body twisted so she could look in the back. "Where did you go?"

Opening his mouth, Chris was about to tell her he was replaying a nightmare, but instead closed it and smiled slightly—not really meaning it. "I'm just thinking about the memorial…"

"I think we all are," she said, turning back to look at the dash. Going to stare out the window, Chris realized they were almost all the way to the RPD. He must have zoned out for quite a long time, not a comforting thought to say the least. He was getting more and more lost in his own mind—something that caused him a lot of fear and anxiety. But it wasn't like he had missed out on much during the ride, the rest of it being carried in complete and utter silence, all three of them off in their own worlds.

Arriving at the RPD, Jill parked in her designated STARS stall, and they all piled out to walk to the office together, the sound of heels clicking against tile, wood, and linoleum ringing loud in the already busy building. A few questioning looks were sent their way, but occasionally an understanding glance was sent, making Chris feel even worse. He hated _pity_. Arriving at the office was a Godsend, and Chris hurried to the safety of his desk as soon as he could, sitting down in the well-worn chair, something he hadn't done all week.

Jill sat at her own desk, and Rebecca pulled up a chair from the radio station, wheeling it over so she could sit in front of the office door. Jill and Rebecca began to converse about the memorial for what it was, while Chris fiddled with his pen, staring at Wesker's desk from across the room, thinking about the little boat and his uneasy situation. Ten minutes passed before Barry and Brad arrived, their ties off and stuffed in their pockets. Upon seeing them like that, Chris also went to take his tie off, even undoing the top button of his shirt to let some cool air touch his hot skin. Pushing his tie in his pocket, Chris swivelled his chair around so he could see all of them.

"So… Irons is lying," Barry began, hands stuffed in his pockets.

"But why is the main question here," Jill said, kicking her heels off under her desk.

"I've got two theories," Chris said, watching Jill ditch her shoes. "Either he's under the impression that this is what happened and he's been lied to… or Umbrella is paying him off."

"Would Chief Irons really be so easily swayed, though?" Rebecca asked, and Chris forgot that not everyone knew about his mood swings. Of course, not everyone had a fling with his secretary.

"He's been off for quite a while now," Chris said, resting his elbows on his knees before realizing his ribs did not like that position. Easing himself back up, he gently touched his side before continuing. "His secretary, Mindy… well, she's been all out of sorts lately, saying he's been getting angry and impatient about everything. She said it's because he's been having an affair, but I think this might be linked to Umbrella."

"Sounds possible," Barry said, rubbing his beard. "He could be being blackmailed by them as well."

"I guess we'll need to find this out," Brad replied, fiddling with the hem of his suit jacket. "But how are we going to do that?"

"I say confront him head on," Chris said, wanting to go the direct route about it. No need to dance around it—they knew the truth and it was up to Irons to respond. But Jill did not look pleased with that.

"We can't just go in and demand answers," she said, shaking her head. "First, we need to solidify our story, and use what we know as facts to our advantage. If we go into Irons' office now and call him a liar with our story jumbled, we'll get nowhere."

"I agree, we need to talk about what happened," Rebecca said, although she sounded hesitant about it—like she did not want to talk about what she saw or did. Chris felt the same, but realized they would have to corroborate their stories in order to get anywhere.

"I think you should start off, Rebecca. Tell us what happened when the helicopter malfunctioned."

"No, I want to know what happened in the labs with Wesker," Jill cut in, her voice sharp, tone quick and to the point. Snapping his gaze to her, Chris felt startled by her request, his boat rocking—he was completely unprepared for what she was asking of him. He wasn't ready for this.

"Nothing happened," he said quickly, knowing it was a horrible, horrible lie, but needed to stall for as long as possible. No, he did not want anyone to know what had happened down there—it was locked away in his mind and memories and if he relayed it, even just the facts about Umbrella, he'd never be able to push it all away again. Since the night in the hospital when he had the unnerving dream, he had not thought about the incident in the lab. If he did, he knew he would be trapped in that room for the rest of his life.

"Chris…" Barry's voice cut in, still kind but forceful. "We need to know what was said between you two."

"Guys, maybe he isn't ready—" Rebecca began before her voice was cut out by Brad's.

"Chris, just tell us so we can move on."

"Oh, fuck you," Chris yelled out, glaring at Brad from across the room. "What gives you the fucking right to demand anything from me?"

Brad seemed to shrink back for a second, eyes wide before he replied, his shoulders straightening again. "We need to know, Chris—this isn't just me asking this of you."

Shaking his head, Chris felt the rage begin to bubble inside him, burning his chest and clouding his vision as he stood up. "No, Brad. No, I don't want to hear a fucking word from you—you fucking _left_ us. You left us to be killed down there all because you lost your cool. You were just as much a fucking part of their deaths as Umbrella, Wesker, and those undead creatures were."

"Chris, calm down," Jill said, standing up as well to get between the two of them. "You're overacting."

"No, I'm not!" he replied, feeling like everyone was blind to what was going on. Brad had betrayed them by leaving them to their deaths. If he hadn't left them without a helicopter, then half of Bravo team would still be alive, and Chris may have been able to sleep at night. It was all Brad's fault. "He left us—he betrayed us."

"I didn't mean to!" Brad shot back, his voice high-pitched as he desperately tried to stand up for himself. "Don't blame this all on me when you know perfectly well it was someone else's fault this happened."

Faltering, Chris just stared at Brad, not knowing what to say. For a second he thought Brad knew—an impossibility for sure but one that almost became a reality. But what made Chris really pause was… he was right. Brad may have played a part, but the blame laid on him and Wesker—they were the Judas' of the group, no one else.

"Fine," he growled out, venom in his voice as the rage continued to bubble, but not towards Brad any longer. "You want to know what happened down there? He betrayed us; that's what. He worked for Umbrella, made STARS for Umbrella, and sent us into that hellhole for Umbrella. We were research data; fucking guinea pigs from the very beginning."

The boat began to rock in the waves, moving Chris back and forth as he tried to hold on for dear life, hoping the boat would save him and not tip him over the edge into the darkness below. And Wesker sat, still and unmoving save for the ever-increasing Cheshire grin.

"Chris," Jill mumbled, her voice soft and pity in her eyes, making Chris even angrier. Shaking his head, he waved her off and trudged over to Wesker's desk. Picking up a stack of papers, he flipped through it for a split second before throwing them against the wall with a yell, sending them flying all over the place. Shoving the coffee mug off, Chris listened to it crash to the floor with a sick sort of glee. He continued to rip the desk apart, destroying and searching for clues at the same time.

"This was all part of his master fucking plan," he yelled out, kicking the desk hard when he found nothing, even though he had thrown most of the papers all over the place without looking at them. "He was a monster and a liar, and he used m—he used us."

He finished his tirade off with a kick to the computer, sending the monitor crashing down to the ground. Electrical sparks flew out of it as it hit the ground, making the bookshelf next to it shake with the sudden impact so close to it. He knew the computer was already cleaned out, so why not destroy it as well—just one more thing gone from this world that was touched by traitorous hands. "And he cleaned it all up… Not a scrap left for us to use as evidence, because I realized something," he said, turning towards them all—shock on their faces. "Our words mean jack shit when it comes to this. We needed evidence; papers, notes, phone conversations, floppy discs! Millions of pieces of evidence were littered around that shit hole of a place, and yet none of us saved anything because we're completely fucking retarded!"

And he fell into the ocean.

"Chris," Jill once again began before he threw his hands up in surrender.

"I'm done, Jill, I'm done," he said, making move to leave the room after he had made such a scene. He was done dealing with people at the moment—he was done dealing with himself more than anything else. But he couldn't do anything about that, and left the room, slamming it closed as he pulled at the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling like he was going to choke.

Making it halfway down the hallway, Chris was fully intent on going home and getting piss ass drunk before a voice stopped him—soft and unsure in its approach.

"Chris?"

He could have just continued, ignored her in favour of his original plan. But something about her tone made him stop, and the anger he had been feeling rushed out of him when he stopped and thought for a moment. Suddenly he felt incredibly tired and foolish—what had he been thinking when he pulled that stunt?

Turning around, Chris looked at Rebecca, the bags under his eyes ten times more noticeable already. "What?"

He meant to keep his voice soft, but she seemed slightly put off by his tone. For a second she looked ready to turn around and wave him off, before she pulled a slip of what looked like paper out of the pocket of her skirt. "Take it."

Stepping forward, Chris reached out to take the paper before realizing it was a photograph. Oh, no… not that one. Flipping it over, Chris saw his and Wesker's happy faces once more, and resisted the urge to collapse as he looked at two monsters. "I don't want this."

"Yes, you do," she said, fingers balling together to make tight fists. "I saved it when you passed out at the apartment. I didn't… No one else has seen it."

Shaking his head, Chris stared at the photo, unable to look at Rebecca—shame crawling over his skin, dragging him into a place she could never understand. Did she realize how- how dirty he felt, looking at what he had done? "I didn't… I didn't mean to do it."

"Do what?"

"Fall in love with him," he mumbled, thumb and index finger crunching the side of it where he was holding it. "I didn't know…"

"I don't blame you," she said, and Chris suddenly felt even more shameful. This wasn't something that should be accepted or understood. He was a monster, a person who had willingly blinded himself in order to achieve happiness—his own happiness. He needed to feel the blame, he needed her to yell and judge him so he didn't have to do it all on his own.

"Don't…" Chris said, pulling back as she reached out to touch him. "Don't tell anyone."

"I won't," she said, and Chris finally tore his gaze away from the picture to see her expression; it was pity once more. "Are you going to be all right?"

That was the hardest question of all, and Chris did not know the answer. How could you be all right when you destroyed so many lives and lowered yourself down to that of villains and monsters? How could you be all right knowing that you were just as bad as the men and women you fought every day? How could you ever be all right when you faced your true nature and failed its test?

"I don't think so," he whispered, stuffing the photograph away in his back pocket before leaving, this time incredibly exhausted. He just wanted the day to be over.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Lying in bed, Chris stared up at the ceiling, hands resting on his chest as the minutes ticked by and still no sleep came to him. He was exhausted, but found himself unable to close his eyes. He was, of course, still afraid of what he would see when he fell asleep, but his insomnia had started to become a pattern for him—a pattern that was beginning to be difficult to break.

When he had returned home from the memorial and his subsequent blow-up at the office, he drank a few shots of some old vodka he had lying around in a cupboard, before lying on the couch to watch baseball—a game he hated. But it took his mind off of everything, and allowed him to waste the day slightly buzzed but not haunted by the dead. Baseball was boring and that's what he needed right now; a boring, mundane existence.

But the game had to end and with it went Chris' alcohol-induced buzz, so he took a shower and hit the sack early, the sun having just gone down. He had actually planned on sleeping that night, figuring his body needed it. Even if it was interrupted by nightmares, he'd at least help his body out a little. Once again his mind was too wired for it to fully shut down. He kept going over what had happened during the day, a mixture of emotions creeping up. Anger, frustration, denial, sadness, resentment, confusion; all of these and more were making his chest seize and mind wander.

And the photograph lying on his bedside table wasn't helping the situation. Rubbing his eyes, Chris inspected the crack on the ceiling directly above the bathroom door for the tenth time that night before giving in to temptation and picking up the photo. Lifting his arms above his head, he looked it over once more, remembering everything about that day the photo was taken. He remembered the feeling of Wesker's lips against his own, the smell of the outdoors mixed with the book Wesker had been reading, the feeling of clean sheets under his impossibly hot skin… It was all there, locked away in his heart and mind—tormenting him.

Frowning, Chis continued to stare at it, his gaze fixing on the subtle smile on Wesker's lips. He looked so… happy. He looked content with his life. But inside there was a monster lurking; a power-hungry demon that would stop at nothing until it had consumed everything around it. And Chris had fallen into his trap and willingly stayed, even though he saw all the signs.

He was just as bad.

Gently bending the photo back and forth, Chris listened to the sound of it as it swayed under his manipulation, getting to the point where he'd almost fold it completely before letting it pop back, all the while thinking of nothing… Until it struck.

Stopping his movements, Chris stared at the photo once more, eyebrows furrowing. He had been so caught up in the fact that he was a vile, despicable person that he hadn't once thought about how he could help. He had said he was the partial cause of all of this because he had seen the signs in some way, but done nothing to improve the situation. He had been a selfish asshole and chose his own happiness over the lives of others. But what was he accomplishing by beating himself up about it all? Yes, he was just as bad as Wesker, Umbrella, even Irons… But he would repent for his sins—he could redeem himself. If he helped those around him, if he made a difference and saved just one life, he could maybe begin to fall asleep at night. He may be a monster, but he wasn't beyond salvage. He could redeem himself if he tried.

Pulling open the drawer of his bedside table, Chris slipped the photograph in before shutting it with a resounding thud. He was going to be the maker of his own salvation.

* * *

_And so Chris' redemption begins. Sorry for the delay on the chapter- I just finished writing/editing/re-reading about 10,000 words for my essay for school. The last thing I wanted to do was go through this and edit the chapter as well! I hope you liked this chapter, though. Thank you for the read/review/favourites/etc. You're all awesome._


	43. Leaving

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.  
_

_Warning: Nothing_

**Authors Note:** Sorry for the slight delay in the chapter. Convention season is starting up, and with that comes the 'cosplay rush', in which I run around like a chicken with my head cut off. So I've been doing a lot of crafts as of late and have been getting distracted with figuring out how I'm going to make certain things. In any case, I hope you enjoy the 3rd last chapter of SoF!

* * *

**Chapter 43- Leaving**

_A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only thing he would regret leaving was the sky. ~Kenko Yoshida_

"So what exactly are we doing here?"

"We're confronting Irons."

"Under the guise of planning some counselling with the resident police psychologist?"

"Yes."

"But why? I mean, weren't you the one who said we have no proof?"

"Yes, but we have our word and we have the ability to put pressure on both Irons and Umbrella. If they know we're not going to be quiet, then maybe they'll try so hard to keep things under cover that they'll eventually slip up."

"I thought you had given up."

"I didn't say I had given up."

"Destroying Captain Wesker's desk and screaming about us being retarded seems sort of like you gave up."

"Don't call him Captain."

"Why not?"

"Because he's not our captain anymore."

"Was he ever?"

"Okay, that's enough you two," Jill said, her voice snapping Chris out of his death glare on Brad. Giving him one last dangerous look, Chris then brought his attention to Jill beside him, a small smile on his lips.

"Sorry, were we talking too much?"

Rolling her eyes, Jill sent Chris a blank stare. "You know why I broke that up," she said, running a hand through her hair, gaze returning to the clock on the wall in the waiting room. It was Monday, two days after the memorial, and they were official sent back to work, whether or not all of them had agreed to the psychological assessment. Chris certainly hadn't agreed to it, figuring whoever Irons hired to help them would be part of the conspiracy, and therefore would not really listen to whatever he had to talk about. Besides, Chris hated psychologists. No one got to know what was going on in his head save for himself—it was safer that way. Especially now…

So even though he had not gone through the assessment and evaluations, he was allowed back at work the same as everyone else. His side still hurt, his head still throbbed, and he felt dirty and tainted with the STARS patch sitting on his arm, but he knew he had to go back. He was no good sitting at home doing nothing, and if he quit working for the RPD he'd be even further away from his redemption. As much as he hated to admit it, his job gave him valuable resources that he could use to aid their cause to take down Umbrella. So he got up in the early morning, pulled out the extra STARS shirt he had, snatched the recently cleaned dark green vest with its worn sides and frayed edges, and put them both on along with the mask that he had to wear in the public eye, shielding them from the monster that lurked below. It was once easy to pretend everything was all right; that his career was rewarding; his relationships blooming; and his sense of self was strong within him. But after that fateful day in the mansion, Chris knew he would never be the same, not when the curtains had been pulled back to show that he, too, was just a puppet. No longer did he have all the things that made him _him_, and instead he was just another actor on the stage, desperately trying to stay in character as the set burned around him.

Now he had to play the part of the old Chris Redfield; the one who never shied away from conflict; knew the difference between right and wrong; the one who had played the part so beautifully before. No one could know something was wrong—no one could know that there was more to his grief than what met the eye. Save for Rebecca, Chris' true self was hidden in his heart and mind, infecting and torturing him, but staying locked away where it belonged.

And it was easier to play the part when he had something to do. So when he arrived at work, the first thing he said (after apologising to everyone for his tantrum the other day) was that they should go talk to Irons. By standing back and not saying a word, they would be sending a message that they were weak and were going to let Umbrella get away with what they did. Chris would not let that stand, though, and convinced everyone to go see Irons as soon as they could to at least symbolically show that they were not going to roll over, no matter how strong Umbrella was. They had to say something, because who else would? When they signed up to join STARS, they promised to protect the people of Raccoon City, and they were all going to see that oath through.

Of course they had to wait to see Irons, especially after such short notice, and that left time for small talk—only it had turned into more of a thinly veiled argument between Brad and Chris. Since Chris had voiced his opinions on Brad's behaviour, Brad had retaliated by acting a lot like a small child; goading Chris on in an attempt to get him to lose it. It had turned into a mutual dislike, one that Chris was more than fine with keeping up. Brad was a liability and always would be. Why support him when he had not supported Bravo and Alpha team?

Besides, it was good training for Chris to have someone continually harass him. He needed to keep his emotions in check if he was going to get anywhere in this mission of his, and flying off the handle at the smallest of things wasn't going to work. He needed to be calm and collected—he needed to close himself off from his emotions. Although it was hard not to just throw a chair at Brad's head.

"You sure he's going to see us?" Rebecca asked, putting down an old magazine that had been there since before Chris had even moved to Raccoon.

"Why wouldn't he?" Barry asked in return, cracking an eye open, his arms crossed over his chest and legs splayed out. He looked very relaxed given the current situation, and Chris figured he had probably taken a cat nap.

Shrugging, Rebecca picked the magazine up again, although she didn't open it and merely played with the curled in corners. "He probably knows we're not here to talk about our mental health examinations, so he might be nervous and not wanting to talk to us about his cover-up."

Sighing, Chris rubbed his face with one hand before stretching his side out gently, feeling the muscles seizing. "He'll see us. He has to, especially if he knows what we're here to talk about. If he doesn't, well… it's sending a message."

"Why not ask Mindy what he's up to right now?" Jill suggested, knowing the extent of their previous relationship more than anyone else.

"She's not working today," he said, noticing a different secretary behind the large desk, her brunette beehive hair visible behind the computer screen. Chris was actually worried that he hadn't seen Mindy at all since the mission a week ago. She had been high strung for a while (and still hadn't talked to Chris about what was really bothering her), so perhaps she had decided to go on a small vacation… although she probably would have told him.

"You okay?" Jill's voice once again snapped Chris out of his worried thoughts, and he simply sent her another smile.

"Yeah, just thinking. I do that on occasion."

Rolling her eyes, Jill gently nudged him before once again staring at the clock on the wall. "You've been spending a lot of time in your head."

"Haven't we all?" he asked, going to look at the clock as well. "I mean… there is a lot to contemplate."

"True… Just don't get lost in there." Her voice was soft and quiet, making it so he was the only one to hear it. Tearing his gaze away to look at her, Chris began to realize how observant she was, and admired her for a second as she watched the second hand tick around the white and black center.

"I won't… And if I do, you'll pull me out, right?"

"Of course; we've got each other's backs." He could see the smallest, barley there smile appear on her lips, and Chris couldn't help but smile back as a safety net formed underneath him. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad—this new persona idea he had going on— if he had someone to act on the stage alongside him. Monologues were always easier when you weren't the only one standing there.

Of course the moment was ruined when the phone in the room rang loudly, making everyone visibly jump—including Barry, who seemed to have genuinely passed out while they waited. Everyone's attention immediately went to the secretary's desk, and they watched as she slowly picked up the phone on the third ring, her attention still on the screen in front of her.

"Yes?" she said, her voice low and calm. Chris swore he could hear some French in her accent, and shifted ever so slightly to see if he could see her face. For some reason she sounded and looked familiar, but he couldn't pinpoint why. He didn't have time to dwell on it, though, and brought his attention back to the clock when she put the phone down and stared directly at him. Awkward…

"Irons will see you all, now," she said, standing up with a few folders in her hands. "It's just down the hallway behind the mahogany door."

This time Chris could tell that her accent was definitely French, and he knew for sure he had seen her somewhere before… Where he had seen her, though, was a mystery. Maybe she had been working at another place like his dentist or something before she started here—hence the familiarity. Chris didn't want to dwell on it in any case, and stood up along with the rest of them to follow Barry through the door. He was the last one to go through, and when he turned around to close the door he noticed she was still standing up, folders in her hands as she watched him.

"She's creepy," Chris whispered when he had closed the door, but the only person who could hear him was Brad, and he seemed content enough to ignore Chris' statement. He was probably the only one who was freaked out by her, though. Getting past the familiarity that he felt gazing upon her, her general aura made Chris on edge—the fact that she was staring at him with her cold, blue eyes wasn't helping matters much, either. But once again he didn't have time to think about how troublesome the woman was before they had entered Irons' stuffy, dark office. He always felt a little too cramped in the office, and he had only visited a few times when he was part of a big operation that either went well, or horribly, horribly wrong… like when Wesker was shot or Jill was held at gunpoint. The fact that the walls were lined with awards, medals, and dead animals did nothing to ease Chris' nerves as they all congregated in the small office, their breathing already too heavy for the room itself. It also didn't help that Irons had been smoking a cigar, the smoke clouding the top of the room, hovering above their heads and floating down enough that they had to breathe in the dirty smoke.

Most of the tension came from what they were there to talk about, though. As soon as Chris saw Irons sitting behind his desk, he felt a sudden rush of anger and rage overtake him, his face going flush and his hands balling into fists. He wanted to rip that tie off, stuff it down his throat so he choked on it, and then slam his face down onto his perfectly polished mahogany desk for what he had done. He wasn't just upset at Irons for what he was doing with Umbrella, either—he was also pissed at whatever he had done to upset Mindy. Anyone who would make Mindy cry deserved to be thrown to the dogs. Or zombie dogs—that would be more fitting.

"What do you guys want?" Irons barked out, voice gruff. His hands were perched on his stomach as he lounged back in his chair, trying to appear nonchalant and at ease in front of them, but failing due to his moustache twitching every so often, showing how on edge he actually was.

Good.

"To speak with you," Barry said, and everyone fell in line with him deciding Barry probably had the most tact when it came to such situations. Besides, everyone else was too afraid to say anything in fear of what might be blurted out. They needed to be professional about it, and Chris had a feeling that if he began talking he'd probably end it with another desk-smash temper tantrum. That would not help their case at all, that was for sure.

"Well, speak then because I've got a meeting in ten minutes," Irons said, puffing up a little in his seat, much like an angry cat.

"A meeting with Umbrella?" Chris asked, arms crossed over his chest. So much for saying nothing.

"Chris," Jill hissed out, smacking his side gently as Barry began to speak again, eyeing Chris a second before getting them back on track.

"We're here to talk about your comment on how the other STARS members died at the memorial. The whole 'gas leak' explanation you've concocted."

"What about it?"

Chris resisted the urge to hurtle a blunt object at his head, and simply stayed rooted on the spot as everyone else in the room visibly stiffened. For once, Chris thought that Barry was actually going to act out on one of his urges—his fists balling at his sides, jaw clenching, and nostrils flaring. He looked like he was going to beat the shit out of Irons, and he wasn't about to stop him if Barry decided to do just that.

"You're lying—you're covering it up," Barry finally said, voice calm and even despite his aggressive stance. Hearing Irons sigh, Chris raised an eyebrow and watched him stand up, his hands shoving the hem of his vest back down as it shifted on his larger frame. Staying behind the desk, Irons went to investigate the medals adoring his wall, fingers drumming against the large mahogany desk.

"I think you should all learn something," he began, gaze still on the medals before him. "I got this job because I knew how the game worked. I did my part, I did what was asked of me, and I played it smart. I excelled faster than most because I had money backing me—I had the right

people with the right agenda making sure I got where I was. I earned it, no doubt about it, but the people I had support me were invaluable allies—allies that are incredibly… powerful.

"Because, you see… we have Umbrella here—we're a city founded by a mega cooperation. A cooperation that pumps this city with millions, possibly trillions, of dollars; that is not something you just look away from," he said, turning away from the wall to stare at all of them. "What I'm saying is that there is no place for self-righteous behaviour in Raccoon. It's been corrupt from the very beginning, and you can either fight it, like all the other idiots do and eventually fail, or you can sit back and let them do what they're going to do. There is no stopping them."

"You're a sick son of a bitch," Chris growled out, stepping forward. Screw being the well-tempered guy of the group, Irons deserved to feel a bit of pain for what he just said. Like he was going to be paid off and used by Umbrella like Irons—he wasn't that far gone. He still had pride and a moral code that he was trying to fix again, and he'd be damned if he was just going to sit by and see the deaths of his friends as nothing more than a money grab. Everyone had to know why those men died that night, not just for the sake of Raccoon, but for the sake of Bravo team's honour. They fought and died in horrifying conditions, their flesh ripped apart and their mouths still open in terror, creating a morbid death mask, and everyone had to know this. They never had the chance to die peacefully, but if they broke open this case, then maybe they could rest in peace.

Irons just laughed softly when he saw Chris, a cheery grin on his face despite no warmth in his eyes. "I may be a sick son of a bitch, but I'm a practical one. One who knows not to fight something that I'm not going to win. I did you all a favour by covering it up, because you have no idea what Umbrella would do to you guys if they knew you were telling everyone the 'truth' of the situation."

Sitting back down in the chair, Irons crossed his arms over his chest, the smile gone, instead replaced with a grimace. "If I were you—no, if I were smart—I'd forget any of this happened. Go back to doing your job, and forget about what Umbrella was doing. It was a gas leak—nothing more or less."

"You're going to pay for this, same with Umbrella," Jill growled out, her lips pulled back into an ugly snarl.

"All I'm getting is a hefty pay check, Valentine… Perhaps we could do something with that money together?" Irons asked, winking before Chris almost got halfway across the desk, ready to pummel the shit out of the perverted fuck. So this was Irons' true colours—he should have guessed. Not only was he working for Umbrella, but he was also molesting women at the work place… women like Mindy.

"I'm going to kill you!" he shouted, scrambling over the desk. He had managed to grab onto his silk red tie before strong arms on either side grabbed him, pulling him back and off of the desk.

Standing up, Irons sent Chris a glare, a hand going to touch the tie he had ripped out from its spot under his vest. "That was a dangerous move, Redfield."

"It's not worth it," Barry said, trying to pull Chris back from Irons. Chris wanted to maim him—he wanted to hurt him, torture him, destroy him. Chris wanted to _kill_ the sick son of a bitch and make him feel just a fraction of what he had been feeling every day since the mansion. Irons was willing to sell away the honour of his men for some extra money, and Chris wanted to destroy him for that.

"You're going to regret what you said in this room," Chris said, shoving Barry's hands off of him, the rage still there, but common sense had begun to creep into him, allowing him to see a bit more clearly. Getting into a fight with Irons was not going to do anything but get him suspended or maybe fired—another dishonourable discharge. "Mark my words—Umbrella's going to fuck you over just like everything else it touches."

"Get out of my office," Irons yelled, his thick finger pointing them out of the room, his body shaking with barely controlled rage. "Get out!"

"Like I'd want to stay," he said before shoving past everyone to get out of the room, adrenaline creeping up and down his spine, pooling in his gut and behind his eyes, making him shake and feel sick. Storming through the hallway back to the main office, Chris' anger brought sudden clarity, and as he passed the secretary he gave her one hard look. "You worked for Umbrella as a secretary at their head office downtown. I saw you when I was there for a meeting… Don't you dare fucking spy on me, STARS, or anyone at the RPD, or I will personally throw you off the top of Umbrella's main headquarters." The woman seemed slightly startled by Chris' comment, but did not have time to say anything else before he was leaving while the rest of the STARS members were entering.

"Where are you going?" Jill called out, but Chris kept walking. He needed some fresh air—he needed to get out of there.

"Don't follow me," he called over his shoulder before opening and closing the door to the waiting room with a loud bang. Storming through the hallways of the once comforting building, Chris hurried to the roof, a place that still brought peace to him despite everything that had happened. Throwing open the metal door, Chris ignored the men at the helicopter station and strode over to the railing along the edge, the skyline of the city already calming his nerves as the wide, open sky stretched out before him.

Irons was such a prick—a prick with no fucking soul. He had sold them out; in fact, he had sold out the entire RPD. They were purposely blinded because of Umbrella. They weren't allowed to see what was really going on because Umbrella had money, influence, and an iron fist that ruled with fear. When Chris had joined the RPD, he wanted to do good; when he had entered a relationship with Wesker, he had wanted to do something good for himself; when he had decided to go after Umbrella, he wanted to do good for those who died because of their greed. But it was all for naught. His relationship was a sham, his job was a sham, and his redemption and peace for his friends was becoming a smaller and smaller possibility.

Raccoon City tainted everything.

Sighing, Chris once again reached inside his vest for a packet of smokes, pulling it out and taking one out. Lighting it, Chris sucked in the smoke and held it in his lungs for as long as possible before exhaling slowly. He wasn't going to back down, though. While everything else had been a sham, the drive that he had felt to right his wrongs was not—that was genuine. He would just have to come up with a new plan… one that would lead him to answers. Flicking the smoke, Chris watched the ash fall down to the streets below, mind still made up.

He was going to bring Umbrella down, no doubt about it. He'd just have to be cleverer than them.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Coffee break was the best time of day, no matter where you worked. Even if you worked in a coffee shop and saw and worked with nothing but coffee, it was still the best time of day. Chris loved his coffee breaks because it let him wander around the center for a while, stretching his legs and seeing people other than his teammates for a little while. It was sort of like recess for adults, and he enjoyed it. Besides, he got far too antsy staying inside his office for too long. His legs would start to cramp; mind would begin to wander; and the fidgeting—oh, God, would he ever fidget. Barry had threatened to strap him down in his seat after one particularly fidget-filled day.

He wondered how his teachers throughout the years managed to put up with his ever increasing need to wander around and _move_.

But Chris loved coffee breaks. And that was why he was not happy when his perfect coffee break was ruined.

"What the _fuck_?" Chris yelled out as scalding hot coffee hit his chest, burning his skin through the now soaked white fabric of his shirt. Looking at the cop who had done it, Chris watched the man's face go from mild surprise to shock in a matter of seconds as he, without thinking about it, slammed his fist hard into his face.

"Chris!" Jill cried out, her hands grabbing his arm and pulling him back. Feeling the pain in his hand, the realization that he had hit the guy began to soak in, just as the blood from the cop's nose began to pool in his hands.

"F-fuck, man, I didn't mean to," the cop said, voice muffled as he cupped his nose, other guys in the break room bringing napkins for him. Chris didn't know what to say, his mind still blank as he came to terms with what he had just done. He had acted out, resorting to violence on a man who didn't deserve it. What was going on?

Pulling his arm away from Jill's grasp, Chris mumbled a sorry to the man and made move to leave, wanting to get out of there to clean up and get away from everyone's accusing gaze. But Jill's voice made him pause. "What happened?"

Not knowing what to say or do, but needing to keep appearances up, he turned and shrugged, winking to ease her nerves. "It was nothing," he lied before hurrying to the washroom, afraid of what he had just done and afraid of what he was feeling now. A part of him wanted to go back and pummel the shit out of the guy.

He had failed himself… again. He had been trying so hard to keep his emotions in check and not act out at the smallest of things, and here he was, punching a fellow cop over some spilt coffee. But he had been trying so damn hard to lock away any emotion that interfered with his judgments and his mission. No one could know there was anything wrong with him—no one could know how angry, frustrated, and grief-stricken he was. He didn't want to show his emotions or deal with them. It was best to lock them away and keep them away. They complicated everything—blinded him from his goals and from reality. He was not going to let anything get in his way of redeeming himself. But obviously bottling everything up was having consequences. He hadn't even thought when he reacted like that; he had just hit him, the anger boiling up as he looked at the cop's stupid, dumbfounded face.

Reaching the washroom, Chris threw open the door and closed it quickly, locking it despite it being a stalled room. Hurrying to the sinks, Chris started the taps up and went to clean his shirt, not wanting to look at himself in the mirrors.

It had been almost a month since the mansion incident—one long, horrible month since everything had gone to hell. His side had almost healed, his head was fine, the bruises were gone and the cuts had vanished or simply turned into small, white scars. Unfortunately, the emotional damage was still there, breaking Chris apart every night he went to bed until morning came where he'd rebuilt himself enough so that he could face the world again—a daily ritual now. He was a mess, and he would readily admit it, but only to himself. He wasn't eating properly, had become paranoid and untrusting, could not sleep due to the nightmares, and spent most of his time mulling over his ideas to stop Umbrella and save the world—a plan that was not working out too well. He was being stifled by working for the RPD, his every move watched, his every conversation heard, and he swore sometimes they were recording his thoughts.

He couldn't do anything to get information on Umbrella to share to the public—no one believed him and his team no matter how much they cried afoul. They had no evidence, nothing to back up what they were trying to say, and so they were left stranded without a paddle as the currents carried them further and further away. Chris had thought he would figure a way around it—one that did not involve quitting his job—but he had yet to come up with anything. Umbrella was proving to be as quick and dangerous as a snake, and his hands were already bitten and bleeding, the poison leeching through his system, infecting and destroying him slowly. Yet he would not stop until they paid for what they did.

But because he couldn't get a good, solid lead he was left lying awake at night, fending off the cold, dead hands as they tried to grab him and pull him under while he contemplated his options over and over again, mind going around in circles until the morning light came and he got up, put his clothes and his mask on, and then ventured into the outside world to live a life he wished he could truly call his own.

Of course this entire time Chris couldn't help but think of Wesker and how much he hated and yet still loved him at the same time. Wesker was always there, skirting about in the shadows of his mind, toying with him. He didn't want to think about Wesker; he didn't want to even hear his name or talk about him with the others in connection to the case. He wanted Wesker to just leave him alone, but that was impossible. Wesker was part of the infection coursing through his veins—a constant reminder of his sins. A constant reminder of why he was trying to reach that redemption.

Sighing when he saw the coffee was not coming out, Chris dropped his hands and went to turn the tap off, fingers pink from the cold water he had used to try and rub the stain out. Just another reminder of how shitty his entire life was right now—only this one reminded him of how fucking emotional he was even though he hated to admit it. But he wouldn't admit it, because no one could know what he was feeling right now. He had told everyone time and time again he was fine, and he was _damn well fine_.

Drying his hands off with a paper towel, he took one long, deep breath before exhaling it slowly, trying to rein in his temper before he ventured back out. He needed to go to the locker room down in the basement to grab an extra shirt he had stuffed in there long ago—he'd rather wear a wrinkled shirt than a stained one. Running a hand through his hair, Chris took another breath for good measure before unlocking the door and leaving the bathroom. No one appeared in the hallway at that instant to yell at him like he had expected, so Chris ventured forward to the locker rooms, turning corners quickly before he bumped into someone on the third turn.

"O-oh, sorry," he said when he ran into the shorter person, only seeing a flash of blonde hair under his gaze before they were pulling away.

"Chris!" Getting a clear view as they parted, Chris saw that it was Mindy, and immediately broke out into a huge grin.

"Hey, where have you been?" he asked, pulling her into a large embrace, forgetting about the giant wet stain on the front of his shirt. She didn't seem to mind, though, and simply hugged him back before pulling away.

"I got transferred a while ago," she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, a large silver earring catching the light as she did so. "I now work down in the main lobby. You've walked past me a few times but you never seem to see me."

Now Chris felt like an ass. "Sorry, I guess I've been distracted lately."

"It's understandable," she said, sympathy written all over her face. Reaching out, she rubbed his arm gently, a small smile on her lips. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm… okay," he lied, smiling back. "You know how it is… just going through the motions. But I'm all right."

"Are you sure?" she asked, dropping her hand. "I mean, you've been through a lot, and what with Wesker—"

"I'm all right, I swear," he said, before going to change the subject. "But how are you? I mean, last time I saw you there was some heavy stuff happening with you and Irons, and now you've been transferred to a new department and an old Umbrella employee is working for him."

Sighing, Mindy shrugged. "I guess he didn't like me knowing about his affair so he moved me. It's good, though. I prefer it where I am."

"Mindy… it wasn't an affair you knew about," Chris said, it being his turn to frown as she lied to him. He knew that she knew all about Umbrella and his lecherous behaviour, and he needed to get her to admit it. Maybe she could help him with his case.

"Chris, don't push it," she said, her gaze leaving his to look around the hallway.

"But Mindy, I need to—" he began before her voice cut him off, tone sharp and quick.

"Chris, just stop it! Don't push it, don't inquire about it—just forget it! It's too dangerous, what you're doing. You need to back off or you'll get hurt."

He hadn't expected her to snap just like that, even though their topic of conversation was a tense one. She had always been gentle with him, even when he was pushing her too far. Something was going on and it wasn't fixed by a simple transfer.

"Mindy, I need you to tell me what's going on with you and Irons. Has he been hurting you? I know he's a horny asshat and there is no telling what he'll try and do—"

"Chris, stop it!" She was practically yelling now, and there was obvious fear in her eyes as she clutched her purse close to her chest. "Don't ask any questions about Irons or Umbrella—if you keep doing this it will get you killed, and I will not see that happen. So stop asking around, stop pestering people, and stop talking to me!" Pushing past him, Mindy made move to leave, her hands shaking and her eyes wide as she tried to get away from him. Reaching out, he tried to grasp her arm and pull her back—keeping her there so he could calm her down and eventually find out what was going on, but she had other ideas. Wrenching her arm out of his grasp, she turned around and smacked him hard on the cheek.

Feeling the pain immediately, Chris' first reaction was to reach up and cup his cheek, the skin stinging out in pain as he touched it. But he did not dwell on the pain and instead looked at Mindy, eyes wide. Had she really just slapped him like that? "Mindy?" he whispered, confused, startled, and slightly… sad.

"I-I'm sorry, Chris, but you need to stay away from me and everything else. Go away a-and just… just stop worrying about this," she said, her voice shaking as she tried to keep her emotions in check. He could see the tears in her eyes and the flushing of her cheeks, but did nothing to stop her as she turned around again and left him in the hallway, her heels clicking loudly on the wooden floor.

Watching her leave, Chris rubbed his cheek roughly as the stinging subsided and all that was left was an angry red mark. Not moving for some time, he just stared at the door Mindy had left through as other employees of the RPD walked by, no one saying anything as they gazed upon his startled expression.

Mindy had physically forced him away this time—showing him that something was incredibly wrong, and yet he wasn't supposed to do anything about it. Irons was dangerous, he knew that much. But the fear he struck in Mindy was enough to make Chris pause for a moment and really contemplate what he was doing. There was something going on; something more than being paid off by Umbrella and hitting on his employees… there was something _wrong_ with him.

Shaking his head to try and clear away the confusion and pain he felt thinking about what Mindy had just done, Chris wandered to the locker rooms in the basement. He wouldn't bother Mindy—at least, not right now. He would respect her wishes, no matter how upset it made him, and he would back off from prying her for information.

But prying other people for information, especially on Irons, was not off limits, and Chris was going to take full advantage of that. Mindy had warned him to step away from the case, but he was never one for following orders.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"You're what?"

Sighing, Chris rested his elbows on his knees and leant forward in his chair, eyes downcast as Jill's voice barrelled over his own. Waiting until she had quieted down, Chris took a steady breath before reiterating what he had said. "I'm quitting STARS."

"You can't do that!" Rebecca chirped in, and Chris looked up to see her staring at him, eyes large and worried. She reminded him of a guppy fish—cute, but a little too cute.

"I have to," he said, sitting back in his chair, trying to avoid looking at Jill's accusing stare. "I need to gather information and bring Umbrella down. I can't do it while I'm working for a place that is run by the cooperation I'm trying to destroy."

"But we need you with us! We need to stay united," Jill countered, anger and desperation in her voice. "Whatever happened to defending the citizens of Raccoon until the very end?"

"I can't defend them if I'm being chained down like I am now," he explained, going to look at Jill. She simply gave him a stern look before she went to stare at the wall ahead of her, a glare in her gaze that could kill.

"Have fun trying to quit," Brad mumbled, rubbing his hands together as he, too, went to lean back in his chair.

"Why, you already tried as soon as we got back from the mansion?" Chris spat out, making Brad visibly bristle. He was about to counter with something before Rebecca interrupted, her voice soft but commanding.

"I'm staying here," she said, her hands balled together to make small fists. "I'll stick with you, Jill."

"Thanks," Jill mumbled, sending her a small, soft smile.

"Stop talking like I'm leaving you guys to the dogs! I'm still helping out; I'll just be doing it without Umbrella breathing down my neck!" Chris said, trying to defend his decision. It wasn't like he wanted to quit, but it had become his only option. He couldn't be connected to anything or anyone—he needed to be able to do what he needed to do without something holding him back, be it a job or a personal relationship.

"Yeah, but you won't be part of the team," Jill said, frowning even though he could see her begin to soften a small fraction. "I won't have you to bother when I'm bored."

"You can always call me and tell me about something stupid a fellow cop did," he said, sending her a crooked smile. It seemed to melt her further, although she was still sighing a tad dramatically.

"I guess if it's what you need to do…" she said, trailing off. That was when Chris knew she was beginning to see his points. "But you know I'm still staying. I made a promise to the people of Raccoon to protect them, and I'm going to see it through."

"As am I," Rebecca said, nodding in finality as Jill sent Chris a smug look.

"I'll be protecting them too, just not with a pay check," he said, suddenly feeling a little sick thinking about the lack of money he'd have in the future. Oh well, he had worked his finances out last night, and if he didn't spend money on unnecessary things like food then he'd be okay for quite a while.

"What do you think, Barry? You've been awfully quiet," Rebecca said as soon as Jill started to tease Chris about becoming a hobo. Turning his attention away from Jill, Chris went to look at Barry, who seemed occupied with the corner of a piece of paper.

Shrugging, Barry left the note alone and sat forward at his desk, arms resting on top. "I have no room to say anything about Chris' decision given I'm leaving as well."

"What did you say?" Jill yelled out again, and Chris had a feeling of déjà vu. But Barry's words caught him off guard too, and he found himself sitting with his mouth open and eyebrows raised. Why was Barry quitting as well?

"Don't start freaking out, Jill… I just need to think about my family in all of this. I mean, this is dangerous stuff, this Umbrella business, and I need to think about the safety of Kathy and the kids before I go off doing anything reckless. Umbrella seems like the type of company that would do anything to get to those who are against them, and for me… well, that's my family."

"So… you're just quitting?" Chris asked, feeling like Barry had pulled the rug out from under him. He needed Barry with him on this… Barry was like a brother to him and if he left at this crucial moment, then… then he'd be really fucked.

Sighing, Barry ran a hand over his face, his skin a little pale. "No… No, I'm leaving Raccoon City… I'm actually leaving the United States altogether. I mean, not forever, of course, but I'm settling everyone up north in Canada—just to make sure they're save. Umbrella doesn't have such a strong hold up there due to the health care system, so it's safer. I just need to get them up there, get them a place to stay and make sure they're okay, and then I'll be back down here to help you guys out. But for now I need to leave."

There was silence for some time, all of them not knowing what to think. Barry, the rock of the group, the oldest and wisest of them all, was leaving them. Chris felt like a kid who had his water wings removed and was expected to swim the length of the pool and back. It was daunting.

"You… You gotta do what you gotta do," he finally said, breaking the silence in the room. Chris thought of Claire when he spoke of his family, and how he'd do anything to keep her safe. She came before anything else in such situations, and for Barry it was the same way. His kids and wife were more important than bringing Umbrella down at this point in time.

"Y-yeah, you need to help your family first," Rebecca agreed as Jill and Brad simply nodded. Not knowing what else to say, all of them sat in silence in the office, their numbers once again dwindling.

Where there was twelve, now only three were left standing of the once proud Special Tactics and Rescue Service of the RPD.

* * *

_And so it continues! Chris is still trying to find that redemption, Jill is the silent but bad-ass support, Rebecca knows more than is healthy, Brad is the punching bag, and Barry is now Canadian! Haha, well I hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter, and thank you very much for all of the support. You're all really, truly, amazing. _


	44. Planning

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the settings/characters in the below peice of fiction- they all belong to Capcom. _

_Warning: None_

**Authors Note:** Sorry about the major delay on this chapter, you guys! I've just been really busy with everything, and truth be told I hadn't exactly finished chapter 44 or chapter 45. It's convention season, so I've been busy with panels and cosplay and other nerdy things. But here it is, the second last chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 44- Planning**

_A common mistake people make when trying to design something foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools. ~Douglas Adams~_

Chris would be lying if he said he didn't feel just a little bit like a secret agent at the moment.

Standing in his small, messy room, Chris shoved a flashlight down the pocket of his baggy cargo pants before pulling at the tight collar of his black shirt for the third time that minute. Looking over himself in front of the mirror, he shifted around a little, taking a look at his pockets and his sides to make sure he wasn't showing off too much. If you looked hard—really hard—you could see the outline of something bulky against his right thigh, and a few pockets looked a little more stuffed than usual, but for the most part his gear was hidden.

Feeling the Taser in his pocket once more, Chris made sure it was secure in its pouch as it rested against his thigh, a little fearful of carrying a Taser around with him, even though he knew how to safely use one. He was going on a little covert operation around the city tonight, and although he wasn't expecting any trouble, he didn't know what he might accidentally walk into.

After resigning a few days ago, Chris has set his plants into motion quickly, not even taking the time to clear out his desk or hang up his STARS vest for good. He was eager to just leave all of that behind him and begin working on something new—something productive and rewarding that would take him away from all the bullshit from before. Because now he could actually do what he needed to do; now he didn't have Umbrella or the RPD breathing down his neck anytime he so much as sneezed.

And with this newfound freedom came Chris' plan to try and find something—anything that would incriminate Umbrella. He figured that, seeing as how he lived in the city that was founded and run by it, he'd be able to possibly scrounge up some information by patrolling the streets and specific, important, Umbrella buildings. Places like the main headquarters, the pharmacies around the city, and buildings like waterworks and electricity that were run by the city. He didn't know exactly _what_ he was looking for, but if there was anything of use he was sure he'd find it.

This also gave Chris an excuse to dress in comfortable spy-like clothing and patrol around the city. While it was all business, he couldn't guarantee himself that he wouldn't start thinking he was James Bond while searching for clues.

Satisfied that he had everything, he looked over himself once more in the mirror while avoiding looking into his own eyes, before heading out in the living room, snatching his keys from the bedside table as he walked by. Entering the kitchen, he grabbed a half empty water bottle and took a swig of it before placing it back into the fridge. He was just about to go to the door when he heard a ring from his phone. Sighing, he debated whether or not he was going to answer it, before going to pick up the white receiver while contemplating the pros of getting that new caller ID system he heard was available for phones now.

"Hello?"

"Chris, thank God I got hold of you!" Claire's voice rang out clear as rain on the other end, and Chris held the phone back from his ear for a second, her voice shrill and panicked.

"H-Hey, Claire," he mumbled, trying to hide his disappointment. He had avoided talking to her after the incident, not wanting her to know about what was going on. It was better that she didn't know the situation right now—she should stay safe in her ignorance about Umbrella and what Raccoon was really like. In fact, he had been so secretive about everything he hadn't even called her to tell her what befell Bravo team, going on the assumption that she wouldn't find out through any other sources, and it would be safe to keep it a secret as well.

Ignorance is bliss, as they say.

"What the fuck is going on? You haven't called me in over a month! You've also seemingly missed every single message I've left on your answering machine, too."

He hadn't been very subtle about the 'ignoring' part of his plan, he guessed. "I'm sorry, I've just been really caught up with work and stuff—I haven't had a moment's time alone, really."

"You couldn't have even called to check in?"

"I've been staying at another person's place," he lied, before realizing that response was going to cause even more of a situation.

"Whose place have you been staying at?" she asked, her tone lower and voice slowing down so she didn't sound quite as panicked.

"Mindy," he lied, again. "We got back together."

"O-Oh… Well, I still don't see how that has anything to do with not calling me…"

"I've just been busy, all right?" he snapped, before immediately regretting it. But he didn't want her to pressure him for answers of any sort—she'd realize this was all for her benefit later on. He needed to protect her, and this was the best way. He could hear her start to sound like she was going to blow up again, and he cut her off quickly. "Listen, I have to go. Don't worry about me; I'm just busy."

And with that he hung up. The sound of the receiver being placed back onto its cradle against the wall made his stomach drop, and he felt like such an asshole. But he had to be tough in order to make any of this work—emotions and personal connections had to be severed, even if it was with his only family; even if it was with his baby sister.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Chris tried to quell the regret and unease he was feeling, and shut it off in order to get back into the positive frame of mind. Everything he was doing was for the best.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Sauntering down a busy downtown street, Chris kept it casual, fitting in with the crowds as people walked around and looked at the shops before they closed, the muggy air clinging to everything and everyone, making the city seem slower paced than usual. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Chris watched everyone around him, trying to act casual while carefully inspecting everything. While there wasn't a lot in this area, he had to walk through it in order to get to the main downtown buildings. He had parked his Jeep a few blocks away in a free parking area, and would suffer the drudgery of walking to his destination for it.

Weaving through the foot traffic, Chris kept a brisk pace in order to get out of the over-populated area into the now quiet and half shut down office section, hoping he'd be able to explore a little more. He hadn't expected everyone to still be out and about, but realized people were probably already starting their 'back to school' hours, meaning they would be open longer; a minor inconvenience. Staring straight ahead, Chris paid attention to what was going on in front of him, not really taking in any of what was happening around him until he saw something that caught his eye.

Catching his breath, Chris slowed down a fraction as he spotted a tall, lean man walking through the crowed a few steps ahead—his slicked back blonde hair catching the street lights as he held his head high and proud. Feeling someone walk into him, Chris lurched forward and continued to walk, but this time his gaze was following the man as he weaved through the crowd with graceful ease. His face was hidden to Chris, but he didn't care about that—that eerie sensation was creeping up his spine and into the back of his eyes, making his vision swim and his breathing become laboured.

It looked so much like him—the gait, the hair, the purpose behind every movement. It was like looking at a mirror from the back. Forgetting what he was doing, Chris found himself gravitating towards him, not knowing what he was looking for but needing to get close. Wesker was dead—he had seen his body and watched as the Tyrant murdered him—there was no way this was him.

Then why was Chris clinging onto the notion that it might be him?

Not fighting with his own fucked up logic, Chris just continued to chase the phantom through the crowd, increasing his pace as he shoved people aside, trying to get closer as the man moved further and further away from him through the sea of people. He couldn't see or hear anything save for the ghost and his own heartbeat as he got lost in his head.

Nearing him, he watched as the man headed towards a store, pausing just outside of it to hold open the door for someone. Jogging a few steps forward, Chris was about to call out—try and get the man's attention as the adrenaline shot through him, only to stop when he turned a fraction to kiss the cheek of his wife?

Seeing him place his lips against the cheek of the woman who had come out of the store, Chris got to see the man's profile, and suddenly everything that had kept him going left him, making him feel weak, sheepish, and foolish. He looked nothing like Wesker. In fact, he was rather unattractive. He was older, with a large, hook-like nose and green eyes with small crow's feet present at the corners. His lips were fuller and his face held warmth and lightheartedness as he gazed at his wife.

He looked _nothing_ like Wesker.

Unable to decide if he was relieved or disappointed, Chris turned away, running a hand through his hair just as the couple turned to watch him leave, possibly wondering why such a young man had been chasing them down in eagerness.

He was just chasing after ghosts.

Heading off in the opposite direction from where he meant to be going, Chris got lost in his own thoughts, hung up on what he had seen and how he had felt when there was that small notion of Wesker still being alive. He had been… eager. Far too eager, in fact. Wesker had destroyed his life and everyone's around him, and yet he desperately wished that he was still alive—but why? So he could yell at him? Make him pay for his crimes and make him _hurt_? That's what Chris was going to let himself believe, because although he may be a monster, he wasn't a fool—not anymore. Wesker was dead, and if he was alive Chris would personally rectify that.

Wesker deserved the dark and cold world death brought.

Shrugging off the emotions that clung to him like the muggy air, Chris continued to head off in the opposite direction for some time before realizing he had turned himself around. Pausing in the middle of the stream of people once more, he turned around just at the exact moment someone slammed into him, knocking him back a few feet. He didn't even have time to look to see who it was before he felt a hard punch against his arm.

"Chris, watch where you're going!" Jill's voice rang out loud and clear amidst the hustle and bustle around them.

Immediately going to rub his arm, Chris scowled at Jill, who was standing in front of him now, her hip cocked to the side as she stared him down, an eyebrow raised as she obviously waited for an apology. "I'm sorry," he said, making her immediately relax while he still rubbed his arm—damn, she was strong.

"What's going on?" she asked, giving him a once over, obviously wondering what was with his outfit. Not waiting for a reply, though, she grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the way of traffic until they were up against an old building that housed a fishing store.

"I'm just going shopping," he lied, and it obviously was not convincing given the look she was giving him. Sighing, Chris pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, not wanting to tell her what was going on—this was his road to redemption and he didn't need her getting stuck in his mess. He knew that if he told her about what he was doing she'd want to help him out, which would be bad. She was still a member of STARS, and had an obligation not to go around spying on people and breaking and entering.

"You're a terrible liar, Chris. I can tell when you lie because you fidget and the tips of your ears go pink—just like when you're embarrassed," she said, giving him a cheeky smile.

Sighing again, Chris went to touch his ear before dropping his hand hesitantly, not wanting to admit she was right, like she _always_ was. "I was just going to go… investigate… some things."

Again, Jill cocked her hip to the side and gave him a patient, but slightly annoyed expression. She didn't say anything, and Chris began to get nervous under her expectant gaze. Looking around at the street and the people walking by, he tried to ignore her as he thought up a good explanation that would get her off of his back, but only came up with a mumbled 'um' followed by a few more ear touches. Usually he wasn't this bad about taking control of a situation, but Jill had a knack for getting him to act like a six year old who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She was intimidating…

"You're trying to find evidence of Umbrella's treachery, aren't you?"

"Maybe…"

"And you decided to go and investigate the downtown area near their offices with your flashlight, lock pick system—which, by the way, you have no idea how to use—and some bulky thing strapped to your thigh?"

Jesus Christ, how did she know? Staring at her with wide eyes, Chris just listened to her list off everything he was carrying and detail his entire plan, all while he stood there wondering if Jill was psychic or something. If she was, Wesker must have had a mind made of steel.

"Yeah, pretty much," he admitted, deciding to just come out with it; she clearly knew, anyways.

"Can I come?"

"No," he said, frowning. He knew she was going to ask him that. "You're still a cop, Jill, and this will complicate things further if you get caught. Besides, you're not dressed properly."

"What, I'm not in black commando clothes which make me stick out like a sore thumb?"

Glaring, Chris looked himself over again, thinking he'd stick out a lot less when he actually got to the shadowed area of town. "At least I'm not wearing a bright blue tub top and jeans."

"Just let me come—you know you need me," she said before looking down the street. "You're heading this way, right?" She didn't even wait for him to reply before she took his arm and held it close as they walked down the street.

"I didn't say you could come," he said, a scowl on his face. Why were women so difficult?

"Put a smile on and look like a couple—at least this way you won't look like a lost James Bond wannabe."

Sighing again, Chris tried to look happy but probably looked more murderous as they weaved through the crowd together, Jill seemingly relaxed beside him as they got further and further away from the busy shopping district and more into the business area of the city. Soon they were the only ones walking through the narrow streets, and they separated from each other, no longer having to walk under the guise of a relationship.

"So what are we looking for?" she asked, kicking a small rock off of the curb and onto the street in front of a closed sushi shop that was only open for lunch.

"I don't know…" he admitted, having not thought that far ahead. He figured it would be one of those things where he knew what he was looking for when he found it.

Sighing, Jill nodded and continued to wander with him until they reached Umbrella's head office. He hadn't planned on trying to break into the building, but maybe walking around the perimeter and its courtyard would give him some basic ideas on where to look or _what_ to look for. Jill seemed pleased with the idea even though he hadn't voiced it, and began to walk around the building at a slow pace, her eyes narrowed as she looked over the doors and the obvious security cameras carefully.

"Don't worry about that—there are homeless guys sleeping around in the courtyard so I don't think they care about people wandering," he said, seeing her hesitation.

Nodding, Jill gave them one last look before venturing further, Chris following behind at a slower pace. Nothing was said for some time as they walked around the office tower, the two of them looking for something, anything that would be a possible clue. Chris thought it impossible that Umbrella didn't have more experiments going on in the city. After all, they controlled every part of Raccoon, so why not utilize every square inch of it to their advantage?

"Do you really think they'd just have a huge laboratory in their head office or have any important information here? Seems kind of obvious for them, especially given the fact that they went through so much trouble before to hide their experiments," Jill thought aloud after they scanned the entire perimeter and saw nothing.

Sighing, Chris shrugged, not wanting to admit she was right and his plans were kind of… lame. "I guess… they would probably want to keep everything underground and under wraps," he said, fiddling with the flashlight in his hand. He was just about to turn around and head off to go and mope before he heard Jill snap her fingers, making him turn around quickly.

"Why are you so happy?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as she grinned.

"You said they would want to keep things underground and under wraps," she said, hands on her hips as she winked. Waiting for her to continue, Chris just stood in front of her, hands dangling at his sides. When she didn't say anything he gave her a look.

"What about it?"

"Underground, Chris! The sewer systems underneath the city! Umbrella controls the water works station and all of the underground passages, right?"

"Y-Yeah… Yeah, you're right," he mumbled, suddenly realizing what she was getting at. There must be something hidden underground—Raccoon was known for having a maze-like sewer system but no one really knew why. Some suspected that the sewers had been built a certain way when they city was founded, but when expansion of the city began so did the sewers, causing them to go all over the place due to a lack of careful planning. But perhaps they went all over the place on purpose. "We need to get down there."

"Wait, we can't just go jumping down the first manhole we see," she said, moving forward to speak with him a little closer. "I think I can get access to some city plans of the sewer system if I tread carefully at the RPD. If I can get access to them we can go over them some night and plot out parts that may be the most fruitful for us to investigate. That way we don't have to wander around dangerous sewer systems for hours hoping to come across something."

"Sounds like a good idea except for one thing," he said, stuffing the flashlight back in his pocket.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked, standing back a little, an eyebrow raised.

"You keep saying 'we' and 'us'. There is no 'us', Jill—I'm doing this on my own."

Rolling her eyes, Jill crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "We've been over this, Chris—we need to work together. And I don't care if I still work for the RPD or any of that shit. It's reckless to do this alone and you need backup."

"No, I don't," he shot back, glaring back at her. He didn't need anyone else's help with this—this was his road to redemption. He was the one that fucked up and he was the one that had to make it better; it wasn't Jill's nor anyone else's responsibility to fix the mess that he had helped to create. It was his problem and he should be the one to repair the damages he caused—without the help of those close to him.

"Oh, stop with this self-pity party, Chris!" Jill snapped out, throwing her hands in the air before shaking her head. "You act like you were the only one affected by the mansion incident, but you weren't, okay? We all lost someone that night—we all lost friends and companions—and yet you're acting like you're the only one who experienced anything that night!"

Clenching his jaw, Chris tried to hold back the anger he was feeling. She didn't know the full story so her words were out of an ignorance that he had placed upon her—it wasn't her fault. "Jill, you don't know the full story, all right?"

"So tell me!" she yelled, obviously not caring about the homeless man who was looking incredibly pissed off that she had interrupted his nap on one of the benches close by.

"I can't, all right? You don't know what it was like in that house, Jill! You were locked away for hours, and although you can experience the feeling of grief for the loss of our friends, you can't imagine what it was like to find them dead in front of you, all right?" he yelled, although it wasn't an angry yell, more of a desperate plea for her to understand that this was tough and she should understand that.

Shaking her head, Jill clenched her jaw and looked away, her arms once again crossing over her chest as she stared at a fountain nearby. Standing stiff as a board in front of her, Chris waited for her to say something before she sighed heavily once again. "There is something more going on," she said, still not looking at him.

Not replying, Chris just continued to watch her, not knowing what to say or do as they stood in silence under the looming building that housed all of their troubles. "There is nothing more going on," he finally mumbled, bringing her attention back to him. A moment passed in which she simply studied his face, her eyebrows furrowing and lips turning down in a small frown for a brief moment before she shoved past him, shaking her head.

"You're going to kill yourself if you keep bottling it all up," she mumbled as she passed by, leaving him alone with Umbrella hovering over his shoulder.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"Sorry this is such a horrible birthday."

Looking over at Jill from his seat on the steps of his apartment, Chris shrugged and popped another grape in his mouth. "'S not your fault," he said, stuffing the grape in the corner of his cheek before chewing it.

"I know, but still…" she said, taking another grape from the bag sitting between the two of them on the steps. Playing with the peel for a second, she plucked a bit of skin off before eating it.

Gazing out at the apartments in front of him, Chris shrugged once more and rested his arms on his knees. "It's not your fault Barry left today."

"I know, but I still feel like we should have done something more. Maybe we could have gone out for dinner or something."

"We both didn't feel like eating a meal after having to see Barry off at the airport, so don't worry about it." Taking another grape from the bag, Chris twirled it around with his fingers, watching the light from the sunset reflect off of the bright green surface. "Besides, these suit me just fine," he said before popping it in his mouth.

It was August 25th, Chris' birthday and also the day that Barry left Raccoon with his family. Everyone had come to the airport to see him and his family off, which was a tough process for everyone involved. Not only was a member of STARS leaving them, but a good friend and a support system was leaving as well. Barry was like a member of their family, a family that was getting smaller and smaller every day. They needed him…

But his family needed him more. So they let him go without any tears or requests that he stay behind while his family moved up north. All they did was hug him, pat him on the back, wish him well, and request that he bring back some maple syrup if they ever saw him again. He had promised that they would see him again and goodbyes weren't forever, but it was hard to believe that after all that had already happened.

When they had departed, Jill dragged Chris away and asked what he wanted to do for his birthday. She was the only one who knew when his birthday actually was, and he preferred to keep it that way. He didn't want anyone to try and make a big deal out of it, especially given the circumstances. So all he wanted was a bag of grapes and a beer, a request Jill was more than ready to oblige.

"These are pretty good grapes," Jill agreed, picking off a few and cradling them in her hand as she ate them one by one. The two continued to watch the sun set off to the left down the street, enjoying the warmth the already low sun brought them. Since the incident a week ago at the Umbrella headquarters, the two hadn't talked about what was said, preferring to forget about it. It probably wasn't the healthiest thing for either of them, but Chris was beginning to get used to not talking about his feelings.

"So I got you a gift," she said after a few cars had driven by and a couple more grapes were eaten by both.

Raising an eyebrow, Chris turned a little to watch Jill rummage through her bag to pull out a stack of folded up papers. Passing them to him, she watched as he took them and opened the first one carefully, wondering what was written on the papers. Upon seeing a grid map system, he knew exactly what it was. "Are these maps for the sewers?"

"Those are, but some of the other maps are blueprints for the RPD, Umbrella's smaller office building, water works building, electricity, and a map of the greater Raccoon area, showing road systems that are off the beaten path," she explained, picking one up and unfolding it to reveal the blueprints for the first floor of the RPD. "You can see the layout of the building and even discover rooms we didn't know about. For instance, it looks like Irons has a secret room off to the side connecting to the jails in the basement."

Raising a brow, Chris shuffled through the blueprints until he had come to the second floor, and located the head office where there appeared to be a door he had never seen before. "Weird…" he mumbled, completely forgetting that these were invaluable gifts from Jill.

"I know, and I'm sure that's just the tip of the iceberg. I only got to look through a few for a brief moment, but hopefully you'll have time to look through it more carefully and find something."

"Thanks, Jill… I mean, this is really, really good," he said, tearing his gaze away from the treasures in front of him to smile at her. This was _exactly_ what he needed. "I guess you'll be wanting to look them over with me."

"I'll look them over, but you can investigate by yourself," she said, not looking too happy about it, even though she was saying it.

"Really?" he asked, afraid for a moment there was going to be another argument between the two of them. She usually wasn't willing to roll over to the will of another person. She was strong _and_ stubborn; an aggravating combination at times.

"Yes, really… I'm not happy about it, but for some reason I'm willing to let you do what you need to do. Just keep me updated and don't get yourself killed," she grumbled out while tossing a broken grape onto the sidewalk in front of them.

Chris just smiled and moved to kiss her on the cheek. "Thanks."

Touching her cheek gently when he pulled away, Jill smiled softly and rolled her eyes. "You're welcome."

Sighing happily, Chris collected all of the sheets back up and folded them neatly before placing them behind him on the steps, his birthday looking up already. That was until Rebecca showed up with a bouquet of tulips.

"Hey," she said, smiling as she walked up the steps and passed the flowers to Chris. "Happy birthday."

"H-Hey, thanks," he said, taking the beautiful arrangement carefully and placing them with the sheets after he had inspected them. "How did you know it was my birthday?"

"Jill told me," she said, taking a grape and eating it before sitting down on the step below them. Smiling brightly, Jill nodded and patted his arm.

"I know you said you wanted this to be small, but I figured telling Rebecca couldn't hurt," she said, stretching her arms above her head. Of course it couldn't hurt—she didn't know about the awkwardness between the two of them since Rebecca found out he'd been fucking their traitorous captain for almost a year.

And if to add insult to injury, Jill stood up and cracked her back, making move like she was going to leave them _alone_. "I'm going to go to the washroom and grab something to drink—anyone want anything?"

"I only have water and orange juice, just so you know," Chris said, squinting up at Jill.

"I'm fine, thanks," Rebecca said, and Chris agreed before she left them to sit in awkward silence.

Sighing, Chris ate a few more grapes as the sun grew lower in the sky, casting everything in a dark orange glow—dusk was fast approaching. Rebecca too was sitting in silence, occasionally grabbing a grape to chew on slowly, almost thoughtfully.

"You don't like celebrating your birthday?" she asked after a time, not looking at Chris but still attentive to his every movement, her back ridged and head cocked to the side slightly.

"Not really… Ever since my parents died I kind of stopped—no one to celebrate it with, you know?" Fiddling with a large round grape, Chris didn't eat it just yet, and let the cool fruit sit against the palm of his hand.

"Do you celebrate other people's birthdays?"

"Yeah, Jill and I went dancing back in… May, I think it was, for her birthday. Well, everyone went dancing but she and I danced most of the night," he said, remembering that time fondly. All of the younger members of STARS and a few friends outside work got together to take Jill to a brand new nightclub that had opened up a few weeks prior. The music was good, the dancing was good, and they all let themselves indulge in a little too much alcohol. In the end, Chris ended up passed out at Forest's place with a bra stuck in his back pocket. He was later told it wasn't from anyone he knew, and no, he hadn't slept with some random girl. It was never explained where the bra came from, though…

Nodding, Rebecca once again went silent, and Chris sat with the grape still in his hand, wondering what was taking Jill so long. Sighing, he tugged at his ear before speaking again, not knowing why he was saying this but finding a certain amount of relief to talk about _him_ with someone who knew it all.

"I celebrated Wesker's birthday with him when he had it," Chris mumbled, not looking at Rebecca as she turned ever so slightly to look at him. Continuing, Chris rolled the grape around. "He didn't like celebrating his birthday, same with me, but I pressured him into it just because... well, I thought he could use a break, you know? So I rented a nice hotel room and… well, we spent the night and day together. It was good… Now if only he waited a week after my birthday to go through with his plans, he could have returned the favour."

Both of them laughed softly, but there was no real amusement behind their voices. Clearly it was too early to joke about that stuff—it was worth a try, though.

"You know… I knew about you two before I found the photo," she said, pulling her arms close as she curled in a little, elbows resting on her knees. Chris was surprised to hear this, and felt his cheeks go flush—if she knew then did everyone else? "Don't worry, I don't think anyone else suspected… I mean, it wasn't that obvious. I think I only noticed because I didn't know you two very well."

"H-How do you mean?" he asked, now peeling the skin off of the grape, anxious to know how she knew.

"I just… paid attention, I guess. When people don't give you a lot of notice that leaves room for you to notice them more. I just watched the two of you and I could see something there, you know? When you looked at him you looked… different. Happy, I guess." She said all of this while still looking at the sunset, the sky getting darker. Chris was thankful she wasn't looking at him, and he went to stare at the steps of his apartment. "I also heard you say that you loved him… the day of the mission. You whispered it but I heard it loud and clear."

Oh shit… he had said that, too. He knew that she suspected something at that moment—he _knew_ it! "I'm sorry that you had to find out through the photo," he said after a time, the grape completely bare.

"It's all right—it wasn't my place to know, anyways. I mean, you don't have to explain or justify yourself to me… I know how it is," she said, finally turning to look at him. "We all have our secrets."

Nodding, Chris looked at her, but could only keep her gaze for a second before he turned his attention to the grape, still finding it hard to look her in the eyes given what she knew. "You won't tell anyone, right?"

"No."

Nodding, Chris tossed the grape into the bushes and brushed his hands off on his pants, fingers sticky. At least she wasn't going to talk about it…

"I wasn't alone when I survived the first night at the mansion," Rebecca said after a time, her big blue eyes catching Chris' attention once more.

"Weren't alone? Were you with another Bravo team member or—"

"No, it wasn't another Bravo team member," she said, shaking her head. "There was a guy, on the Ecliptic Express… He was… He was a fugitive who had been locked on the train. I—we helped each other survive and in return I let him go free."

"You mean you let a wanted man go free?" he whispered, eyes wide. He didn't think she would do something like that.

Nodding, Rebecca didn't seem fazed by Chris' reaction, but he could see her hands ball up into small fists. "Yes, I did—but without him I'd be dead, and without me he'd be a goner, too. He deserved that freedom because I believe he didn't do what he was charged with. He's a good man, Chris."

"Who was it?" he asked, eying her suspiciously.

"A dead man. I filed a report with the police and he's officially dead—so don't say anything," she stated, and this was the first time Chris had heard her sound… scary. She meant business, and Chris did not want to anger her further. "Besides, if you want me to continue respecting your past relationship with the man who destroyed our lives, then I think you can continue to respect the fact that I saved the life of a man who saved mine."

"Fine… all right." Nodding, Chris backed off and went to eat another grape just as Jill came down to break the tension between the two.

"Where were you?" Rebecca asked, standing up while dusting off the back of her pants.

"Sorry, I got distracted," she said as Chris slowly stood as well and began collecting his presents. The sun was almost down and it would start to grow cold outside.

"Distracted doing what?" Rebecca asked while Chris could care less with what she did in his apartment. He had hidden the incriminating things.

"Cleaning his bathroom—it was a mess."

"You're a freak," Chris said as they walked back up to his apartment. He received a hard shove for that one.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Chris fiddled with the photograph of him and Wesker, the light from the moon outside the only source of illumination. Playing with the corners, he brought one hand around and slid his fingertips over Wesker's hair and shoulder, eyes following the short trail his fingers were making. Sighing, he scratched his bare chest and drew his legs up so he was sitting cross legged on the bed. Going to stare at the alarm clock, he found it was five minutes until midnight—his birthday was almost officially over.

Sighing again, he returned his attention to the picture and studied Wesker's features once more, wishing he could talk to Wesker one last time to get answers for all of the questions he was left with. Yes, Wesker had 'answered' him back in the lab, but there was still so much he wanted to know and would now never get the chance to ask. Wesker had had bigger plans than he had let on down in the labs, Chris knew it. It was never that simple with Wesker. He craved power, but he would never be happy with just controlling a few bioweapons… he wanted more than that. But unfortunately all of his answers went with him to the grave, and all Chris was left with was a photograph of a devil and his newest victim.

But he wasn't a victim. It would be easy to say he was—that he was just as much a victim of Wesker's manipulation as everyone else… but he wasn't. He was just a blind fool. Tossing the photo back on the bedside table, he rubbed his face with the palm of his hand before rolling over onto the bed, the blankets kicked off at the bottom of the mattress. Scratching the skin under the band of his boxers, Chris stared at the ceiling before going to look at the alarm clock to see it was now midnight.

Rolling over, he stuffed his face in the pillows and prepared himself for another night of deathly cold hands and vicious truths whispered in his ear.

* * *

_What would Chris do without Jill and Rebecca? Seriously, this boy is just so scatter brained right now, it's almost hilarious. Anyways, Chris is starting his plans on making Umbrella pay for what they did, and he soon may discover something mighty interesting about a certain police chief and a new virus... *cough* G-virus*cough* In any case, thanks so much for the patience you guys have given me, and thank you for the support as always! You're all ridiculously amazing people- truly. Thank you for the read/review/favourite/support/etc. _


	45. Flux

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the settings/characters in the below peice of fiction- they all belong to Capcom. _

_Warning: None_

**Authors Note:** HERE IS THE LAST CHAPTER AT LAST, HOLY CRAP! GO READ!

* * *

**Chapter 45- Flux**

_Things of this world are in so constant a flux, that nothing remains long in the same state._ ~John Locke~

Chris hated planning. It took forever to decide on where to go, what to do, and how to do it; it took so long that sometimes whatever you had been planning to do wasn't available anymore. You just sat and planned for so long that all of those well thought out ideas and decisions would amount to nothing because you were too careful.

Chris preferred to jump right into it—get himself into the thick of things and wing it completely. By doing this, he eliminated the possibility of taking too long and missing his chance. Besides, thinking on something for too long could have major consequences to his nerves. If he thought about how reckless he was being then he probably wouldn't go through with it, and that would just not do, especially for someone who based his entire career—no, his entire life—on being reckless.

Unfortunately, Jill liked to plan, as did Rebecca. And Brad… well, Brad just liked to agree with whoever could kick his ass harder. Jill filled that position rather well.

"You guys don't all have to be here," said Chris, chin resting on his hand as he flattened out a crinkle on one of the maps with his free hand. "I mean, I'm perfectly capable of picking out anomalies on a map."

"If you're so good then how come we haven't found any yet?" Rebecca asked, pausing her investigation of the sewer maps to give Chris a level stare. Staring right back, Chris waited until she went back to her investigation before speaking.

"I'm just saying that you guys don't all have to be here—aren't there more pressing things that need doing?"

"Like what? Laundry?" Brad asked, scribbling something down on a piece of paper. Chris thought he could see a stick figure drawing.

Glaring at Brad, he didn't give him an answer and simply turned to Jill, who had been uncharacteristically quiet. Jill had been the one to invite Rebecca and Brad to help with the investigation, and while he was okay with Jill and Rebecca being over, he was still displeased with Brad. Actually, displeased was an understatement. He was pissed off; so pissed off he wouldn't hesitate to reach across and throttle the guy. The only thing that kept him from doing so was his moral code—what was left of it, that was. As long as Brad wanted to actually help, Chris couldn't fault him… too much.

"You're quiet," he said, watching her flip from one map to another, eyes scanning quickly. She didn't say anything, and he went to speak again before she interrupted him.

"I think I found something."

"What is it?" Rebecca asked, leaning forward on the table as Chris got up and rested his hand on the back of Jill's chair, looking over her shoulder to see if he could notice what she was seeing.

"Look," she said, head turned slightly to indicate she was speaking to Chris. Following the trail her finger was making on the paper, he saw on one map what appeared to be a regular sewer line underneath the chemical plant. But the map she had placed beside the first one showed a different story; instead of a regular sewer line, there appeared to be an underground room—one that connected to a series of normal and not so normal underground passageways.

"I think this is your best bet," she said, and Chris nodded slowly, eyes scanning over the two maps once more, trying to work out how the hidden room connected to everything else. A few of the pathways connected to rooms that appeared on the first map—rooms such as offices for the sewer workers, maintenance buildings, and the like. But there were a few passageways that did not appear on the regular map—like one that trailed underneath the police station and Umbrella's main headquarters.

This was definitely the place to start.

Picking up the map, Chris went to draw a large red circle around the room under the chemical plant as Rebecca stood up and snatched it from his grasp. "You're welcome," Jill drawled out, rolling her eyes as Chris patted her head and continued to look at the map over Rebecca's shoulder—trying to plan it all out in his head.

He first had to figure out how to get into the chemical plant. He wasn't a cop anymore, so he couldn't even think to lie about being authorized, and the chemical plant, like all facilities around the city, were guarded by twenty-four hour security. He wanted to do this without drawing attention to himself, and trying to get past the security system with his limited knowledge of lock picking and whatever technology they used to scan the perimeter would probably end up in his arrest—and that wouldn't work well at all. So how to get in…

"What are you thinking about?" Jill's voice snapped Chris out of his daze, and he tore his gaze away from the large red circle around the chemical plant to look at her.

"Just wondering how I'm getting in," he said, going to sit back down while Rebecca passed the map to Brad, who seemed to have given up on his stick-man drawing. "The security must be high around there."

"Any manholes nearby?" Rebecca asked, and they waited a moment as Brad scanned the map, looking for an answer.

"One about a block away, but it looks like it just drops down into the main pipe line—you don't want to go down there," he mumbled, frowning a little. "Maybe one of us could give you authorization?"

"Irons will want to know why we're trying to get into the chemical plant, and given that he knows what're up to, I'd say it's too dangerous to risk it." Shaking her head, Jill pursed her lips and stared down at the table, the surface covered in maps, papers, and coffee mugs, the bottoms of them congealed with cold, leftover coffee.

"Maybe I could bribe the security guard at the plant," Chris suggested, only half kidding.

"Heh, yeah, bribe them with what—a fabulous night with you? I've seen the security guard there—an old man. Didn't know you went for the older men, Chris," Brad joked, a smirk on his lips as he tossed the map back to Chris. Rebecca seemed to find it amusing, and giggled behind her hand, cheeks pink and blue eyes alight with mirth. Of course she'd see the real 'humour' behind Brad's comment.

"That's not funny," he grumbled, folding the map up with harsh movements. Jill's hand on his arm made him calm down, though, and he stopped himself from ripping the delicate paper just in time. "Don't joke about that shit."

Chris was still highly sensitive to any comment about Wesker, whether the person knew what they were referencing or not. He had wanted to forget about Wesker completely and move on with his new goal—to topple Umbrella. Wesker was dead, and Chris' feelings for him went with him to the grave. Of course, this was merely what he wanted himself to believe. It was hard to get over someone who invaded your dreams every night; whose sure and steady touch still ghosted over your skin; and whose low, dangerous voice still filled your ears with such beautiful lies and deceitful prose. Sometimes Chris felt like Wesker was standing behind him all the time—watching his every movement and listening in on his every thought; silently judging him as he tried to prove him wrong.

"Brad, stop making jokes about Chris' sexuality," Jill said, glaring at him. Chris was about to grin in triumph before she turned on him, eyes narrowed. "And Chris, stop giving Brad a hard time. We're all working on this together, so you two need to get over whatever has been eating at you and move on."

"He betrayed—" Chris began, before Jill stood up and clasped a hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up.

"Chris… Get over yourself."

And suddenly, for some strange reason, Chris felt a little bit better.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"_You give yourself away too often." Forest's voice was calm and steady, a hint of playfulness hidden behind sincerity._

"_How do you mean?" Chris asked, fingers dealing the cards out, the only sound in the small office being the soft 'swish' they made as they left the deck._

"_I can read everything about you on your face when you play. I know your next move just by looking at you," Forest replied, taking the cards. Chris thought it odd his hands were speckled in blood, but paid it little mind in favour of studying the table. _

"_You don't know everything about me," Chris mumbled, cheeks flushed despite being completely at ease with himself. Forest simply smiled—although Chris couldn't see it, as Forest's face was covered by shadows that floated above their heads. He could feel the smile, though, and a pang of guilt ran through him. _

"_Learn to keep your heart closed off, Chris. You never know what monster will try to take it when you offer it."_

_He was about to say something—he wasn't quite sure what, though—before Forest spoke again, his voice close and yet far away at the same time. "He's waiting for you. You don't want to make him wait."_

"_But we're playing a game," Chris said, and Forest laughed softly, making him shiver. _

"_We've always been playing a game. But it's time to stop and move on. So go, I'll be waiting for your return." _

_Nodding, Chris placed his cards down on the table and stood up, his chair disappearing as he turned around and headed to an office, the door unfamiliar and yet completely familiar at the same time. Stepping forward, he turned around to look at Forest, only to be greeted with the sight of his dead body. Staring blankly at Forest's limp form, he could only blink in mild surprise before going to open the door. _

_He was greeted with the sight of Irons' office, the bodies of animals littering the floor and the walls, the corners jammed with them—their glass eyes staring at Chris as he stepped forward and closed the door behind him, the handle rattling in his steady hand. Looking in one of the corners, Chris saw the body of Enrico resting against the wall, and was about to go check on him before Wesker's voice cut through the air._

"_He's dead."_

_Pausing, he retracted his hand from Enrico's body, and stared at his prone form for some time, wondering why he wasn't feeling more. "How do you know?"_

"_I killed him," Wesker said, and Chris finally turned to see him standing in the corner, shadows hiding his face, but not his eyes. They were glowing—inhuman yellow and red reflecting off of a light Chris couldn't find. Standing still, he continued to watch the piercing gaze, wondering what had happened to the familiar grey. _

"_Why?"_

"_He was an inconvenience." He stepped out of the shadows, the gaping hole in his chest appearing just as his eyes returned to their regular steel grey. Unperturbed by Wesker's appearance, Chris simply stood in the middle of the room and let Wesker approach him. He couldn't remember a time when Wesker did not have a gaping hole in his chest, blood and guts hanging out of it casually, almost elegantly. Wesker never did anything without an air of sophistication behind it. "Come here."_

_Breaking the distance between the two of them easily, he stepped forward and stood in front of Wesker, his hands staying still at his sides. For some reason he felt calm and at ease in the room, eyes staring at him from all directions, but none of them really seeing him for who he was—save for the ones right in front of him. _

"_I have something important to tell you," Wesker said, voice low and soft, and Chris strained to hear it, body shifting forward so his ear was pressed close to Wesker's thin, blood stained lips. "Listen carefully, dear heart."_

_And Wesker began to speak. But none of it was making sense, his voice too low and gruff for anything to be heard. Soon enough it was a low, deep buzz, and Chris began to worry that he couldn't hear what Wesker was telling him. Agitation bubbled up in his chest, and his palms began to itch while a sweat broke out on his skin. Rubbing his fingers awkwardly against his palms, Chris tried to solve the issue by pressing himself against Wesker, his shirt soaking with blood from the wound on his chest. But it was too late; Wesker was pulling away, his face void of emotion. _

"_Did you catch that?"_

_Chris wanted to say no, and he wanted to ask him to repeat it, but found himself unable to. Swallowing thickly, he simply nodded instead. _

"_Good, I am counting on you to inform the others of my misdeeds. What I told you could save their lives—it's up to you," Wesker said, hand going to tap his shoulder. Following the motion of Wesker's finger, Chris watched the thin, pale finger press against the fabric of his shirt in close detail. "Look at me."_

_Looking up, Chris found himself naked on a desk—Wesker's desk in the STARS office, in fact. His legs were pressed together, feet side by side while Wesker hovered over him, naked as well with his hands locked around Chris' wrists, keeping him in place. _

"_I shouldn't be in this position," Chris mumbled, eyes flicking to the side where he saw all of the STARS members sitting, their forms hunched over in a circle as they spoke in hushed tones to each other. They seemed oblivious to what was going on in front of them. _

"_They won't see us," Wesker said, lips hovering over his neck. _

"_But I shouldn't be like this. I caused this, I shouldn't be punished like this," he said, and he didn't fully understand what he was trying to say; only that something felt wrong about the position. "I am no saviour—I place people in these positions… I crucify my friends." _

"_Calm yourself, Judas. They won't see you in such a dance with the devil," Wesker mumbled, and Chris looked back at the STARS members to see Rebecca had turned around, her blue eyes locking with his own just as the familiar curve of the corner of Wesker's mouth touched his neck. _

_Chris was about to protest—he was about to move and to try and get away before the scene changed again, and he almost gagged from the smell of antiseptic, dust, and death that choked his nostrils and throat. Looking up, he realized he was still on his back, but Wesker's face was now a sickly green colour due to the tubes lining the wall. _

_So they had returned to his nightmare once more. The laboratory. _

"_I need to go," Chris said, and he tried to fight Wesker, only to be pushed down on an operating table, the cold metal rubbing his skin like a corpse's caress. _

"_Not yet, I need to make sure you heard me," Wesker said, although his lips never moved._

"_I hear—" Chris was cut off when he felt pressure in his chest, and he tried to finish before he realized blood was closing off his airway, bubbling and rising as a squirming sensation made itself known in his chest. Frightened, he tried to stop the blood from rising up, and desperately tried to swallow it, only to have more come, slipping through his lips like a moan. _

"_I don't think you did," Wesker hummed, his lips widening in a maddening grin as he pulled his hand back, and Chris grew terribly aware of the fact that he could no longer feel his heartbeat. "I need this back. It doesn't belong to you."_

_Terrified, Chris' eyes grew wide as Wesker's hand appeared in front of his face, his grin present behind the still beating form of his heart. _

Sitting up quickly, Chris clutched his chest, heart hammering against his ribcage while a cold sweat broke out across his skin. Moaning, he swallowed back a scream, and willed his heart to calm down as his fingers pressed into the skin covering his bones so hard it appeared as if he moved his hand his heart would literally fall out.

These dreams were becoming more and more graphic; they were becoming too real. Waking up like this was beginning to become a common occurrence for him. Night sweats, racing heartbeat, uneven breathing, and a terrible sense of dread and guilt seemed to accompany him into the realm of reality, no matter what he did. Immediately after the incident at the mansion, Chris had refused to sleep longer than a few short naps throughout the day, hesitant and unwilling to go through the nightmares he knew he would encounter. But his fitful naps had begun to take a toll on him emotionally and physically, and soon he had been unable to hide his own inner turmoil from everyone else. Jill had noticed the bags under his eyes, the sagging shoulders and weary gait, and the now pale, almost lacklustre appearance to his skin and hair. She had told him she was worried with his condition, and so he took it upon himself to remedy that worry, and smartened up.

He didn't like it when Jill worried.

First he tried to sleep an entire night alone. It hadn't worked too well. His body had become accustomed to the restless nights and short naps, and he spent most of his time lying in bed staring at the ceiling. A few days of this drove him to medical means, and he began to take sleeping pills. Unfortunately the pills only intensified the nightmares but with no means for him to escape them. He spent an entire night running from his demons, and he woke up with the smell of dust and rot in his nose and the heavy taste of copper resting in the back of his throat.

He barely made it to the bathroom before he vomited.

Once he realized sleeping pills wouldn't work, he foolishly tried to drink away his problems. It worked… for a time. But the hangovers and stale smell of beer and vodka, combined with his own regrets, did nothing to make the possibility of becoming an alcoholic worthwhile. So he returned to trying to sleep the old- fashioned way. It was hard, of course, to close his eyes and see the dead eyes staring back at him, but he eventually got used to it until all he saw were the faces of his friends; dead, yes, but not forgotten.

But once he fell asleep and dreamed, he would always dream of him. He would always see Wesker. It didn't matter what he was doing or what the situation was, Wesker was always present in them. He would be sitting on the couch as Chris replayed a memory from his childhood. He would be standing behind him in the grocery line of a dream he'd had numerous times before, involving grand adventures and terrifying stunts that all started at the super market. Or he would be lying in bed beside Chris, the two of them speaking and conversing about everything and nothing.

Occasionally, Chris would have intimate dreams, leaving him hard and wanting when he awoke. This would always leave him ashamed and disgusted with himself, and he would hastily try and distract himself from even the thought of wanting to pleasure himself. Because he knew what had caused the sudden arousal, and he knew that if he were to follow through he wouldn't be able to stop his thoughts from going to Wesker and his alabaster skin and treacherous lips.

But no matter what happened at night, Chris always dreamed.

Groaning softly as his heartbeat slowed down, he eventually removed his hand from his chest and brought it up to his face, running a shaky palm down his features. He was going mad. He knew it. Soon enough he'd go off the deep end, it was only a matter of time. Try as he might, Chris began to believe he wasn't as strong as he once thought.

Swallowing the thick wad of spit that had collected in the back of his throat due to sleep, he got out of bed and wandered into the bathroom, flicking the light on and blinking back the spots in his eyes as he poured himself a glass of water from the small cup he left resting on the side of the sink. Not bothering to let the water cool, he ran the cup under the tepid water before drinking from it, his throat parched.

Finishing up, he let the light from the bathroom calm his nerves before venturing to the living room where the maps stayed strewn about on the coffee table. Not bothering to turn the lights on, he sat in the glow coming from the streetlights outside.

_It is almost a full_ _moon_, he mused as he sat down and fiddled with the maps. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and tapped the maps with his pointer finger, lips pursed as he went over the plans again. They had all decided he would go tomorrow (or was it today?) at night and break in. It was risky, but Jill had gone back to the station and found a guard posting sheet for the chemical plant, detailing who would be on guard and where they would be. She had even managed to find an old report on the security system that was put in, including security camera locations. They were plentiful, but not too hard to sneak past. All Chris had to do was get into the building and down to the basement, where he would hopefully find the doors leading to the underground passages.

And if that didn't work… well, Chris _tried_ not to think on that.

Unfortunately, the more he thought about it and the more he planned everything, the more worried he became. It was a foolish plan—one that would never work. Umbrella and the city itself (although the two were synonymous with each other by now) most likely had stricter security than what was apparent, even to the police force. The information that Jill and the rest of the remaining STARS unit were able to gather was most likely half of what was really going on. Umbrella did not guard her secrets so well by slacking off with security. Chris half suspected he'd be caught even before he could approach the building, let alone trying to break into it.

No matter what they did, it seemed Umbrella always had one up on them. They had more power than Chris could ever hope to attain, and sometimes the only way to fight power was to throw more supremacy at it. But what little authority Chris and the remaining STARS team had paled in comparison to the resources Umbrella controlled. It felt like a losing battle at this point in time, and Chris couldn't help but flop back on his couch, a hand running over his face before settling over his eyes. "What's the point?" he asked out loud to the empty room.

What was the point, though? Chris was starting to lose sight of it all, when there was no apparent reason for his struggles. He was losing touch with his mission, and began to wonder if that was such a bad thing. Maybe he should move on… Maybe Umbrella was going to win either way, and Chris should admit defeat before he lost more of himself. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

"Fucking bullshit," Chris mumbled as he sat up again and flipped through the maps one last time, the early morning sunlight slowly creeping through the blinds to welcome another day filled with stark realities and humbling realizations.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

It was so obvious that it was brilliant.

"_I have a buddy that works for the city," Brad said, flushed and out of breath as he stood in front of Chris' apartment door. "He's a repair man."_

So ridiculously obvious.

"_Here, wear this. It should fit you. And take the badge—it has no photo on it. This afternoon your name is Daniel."_

"_Daniel Clark… Easy enough to remember."_

"_Yes, and here is a tool kit. He specializes in electrical repair, but he does other things."_

The jumper didn't fit exactly. There was… chaffing.

"_Such as?"_

"_A bit of plumbing, some basic structure repair. He says he's also really good at mechanic work but I wouldn't let him touch my car even if he offered to detail it for free."_

Crouching down, Chris placed his tool kit on the cement floor, the dripping of pipes and the distant sound of flowing water his only company in the caverns down below_. It worked_, he thought to himself as he slid the tool kit to the side of the room in order to free his hands. He had flashed his badge, made up some lie about how they received a call about a faulty light switch down in the storage room, and the security guards let 'Daniel' through with furrowed brows and tight lips.

Brad had pulled through. As much as Chris hated to admit it.

He had told the guard who let him through that he worked better when he didn't have someone hovering, and managed to get him to leave him alone. However, he was not completely sure how long the solitude would last, and had to work quickly if he was to find anything of use. Pulling out a slip of paper from his too-small coveralls, Chris looked at his shoddily drawn map in hopes of orienting himself in the maze of the sewers. It took shorter than he expected to figure out where he was, and by the time he knew what to do he had already stuffed his sheet away in his pocket and rushed to the door.

_The stench of the sewer is not that bad,_ he thought as he hurried down one hallway, the railings that skirted the sides of the cement floor offering Chris something to hold onto as he sped through the labyrinth that was the Raccoon sewer systems.

Left, right, two lefts, another right, straight through, and…

There. Stopping in front of a large metal door, Chris wrapped his hand around the cool metal of the handle, his mind situating where he was before he opened the door. He did not relish opening the door to the workshop locker room, or perhaps another security room. He didn't know how he would explain getting lost to a group of men who were already suspicious of his activity.

"_I don't remember there being a faulty switch in the utility closet,"_ one of the guards has said, before the other reminded him that he never went in the utility closet. He then went on to assume that a janitor had complained about it and called it in. Chris was beginning to think Lady Luck was once again favouring him, after being thrown into a dirty gutter, stepped on, pissed on, and then tossed into a pig's trough the past two months.

It had to be the right door. Turning the handle, Chris pushed the heavy metal door inwards, the plastic lining at the bottom sliding soundlessly across the floor. It was dark inside the tunnel, and Chris found himself hesitating. Flashes of rotting corpses, dead eyes, and the stench of decay choked him for a moment, and he wanted to step back and run from the monsters that lurked in the dark. His vision narrowed and his hands began to shake, and every part of him wanted to flee—to get away from it all. But as soon as the images had come they left in a rush, the ghosts of Umbrella's cruelty replaced by dark shadows, while the smell of death was overshadowed by pine fresh cleaner and ammonia.

It was a waking nightmare and nothing more. A flashback. Once again, Chris found himself wondering if it was all worth it…

"Fuck," he whispered, and spat out some of the spit that had collected in the back of his throat when that brief moment of panic seized him. Moving in, Chris shut the door before turning on the small flashlight he had kept in his pocket, determined to fight the demons that plagued him. Balking at the first sign of supposed danger, or shying away whenever he had a flashback would get him nowhere.

Venturing down the hallway with little light but what the small flashlight supplied him, he tried to not let his heavy breathing and footsteps panic him too much. He knew all too well how the silence of a room coupled with the horribly beauty of a person's imagination could make a seemingly innocent hallway become a torture chamber. The hallway was unassuming—the cement walls and floors, with occasional condensation collecting enough in areas to pool small puddles of water. The first puddle made Chris panic, his eyes catching the light's reflection. But once again, a steady mind and an easy pace relaxed him enough so as to figure out what the reflection was, and he continued on, quicker with each step as the hallway seemed to go on forever with no foreseeable end.

But then a door appeared on his left, and he reached for the handle to see if it would open. He was honestly surprised he had not encountered more locked doors, but was not going to refuse the good fortune he had been given. Pulling the handle down, the click of the latch sliding away from the frame resounded crisply through the stale, still air, and he pushed the door open and slid inside. Keeping his face to the hallway presented in front of him, he blinked back the sudden light at the end of the narrow passage as he shut the door behind him as softly as he could.

This hallway was significantly shorter, and at the end rested a desk with computer equipment littered about it, the lights from the systems flickering on and off much like a switchboard. A small lamp sat atop a stack of folders, giving the area a warm glow—completely out of place given the area. Turning off his flashlight, he ventured further into the room, palms itching as he gazed at the potential goldmine of information.

"Let's see what we have here," he mumbled to himself as he picked up the first sheet he saw. An Umbrella logo presented itself neatly atop the paper, and Chris knew that he had found exactly what he was looking for.

Flipping through and reading everything as thoroughly as he could considering the time restraint he was under, Chris worked diligently. He read things that he did not understand, recognized a few names that he wasn't sure if he had encountered in the mansion or simply read in a newspaper, and paid close attention to codes that cropped up. He was jotting a few things down in his notebook, trying not to become frustrated with his own ignorance on the topic, before he paused, a hand hovering over a sheet as his eyes locked on to two very interesting things.

The name William Birking jumped out at him first, followed closely by 'G-Virus'.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

"You sure this is all right?"

"Since when have you ever been worried about breaking a few rules?" Jill asked, a grin on her lips.

Turning back around to face the fax machine in the STARS office, Chris shrugged. "I don't want _you_ getting in trouble, is all."

"Chris, you're just using the fax machine in the office. I highly doubt that it's going to get you kicked off of the premises," she explained, and he could hear her swivel around in her chair. "Besides..." A 'thunk' signalled she had stopped her twirling by slamming her hand on her desk. "You're faxing very innocent questions to an innocent source."

"Yeah, innocent," he mumbled, pressing a few buttons as he slid in his typed question. The question wasn't all that innocent (What is the G-virus and do you know about it? Also, is Chief Irons a rapist?), and the source he was attempting to get information from wasn't completely unknown nor underground (The Federal Police Department), but Chris was desperate by now. They had spent so much time sitting idle on the information they had received, but no way of finding anything out on it.

It had been three days since Chris had gone into the sewers and found the data that he did. Three long days of having piles of information that did not make sense to anyone, and only served to frustrate the remaining STARS members. They had all been hesitant to ask anyone else for information, or to alert anyone to what was going on, but Rebecca eventually convinced them that perhaps they were in over their heads. Perhaps, just maybe, letting someone else in would save more lives than previously thought.

They, of course, might be in more danger for doing this, but in the end they realized they needed help, as much as it pained them to admit it. They had only planned on asking the question about the G-virus, and to hopefully alert the government about the possibility of bioweapons being unleashed upon the general population very soon, but Chris had added the extra question about Police Chief Irons. He couldn't find out any information about the man before he became a member of the RPD, but he could not just leave the mystery surrounding Irons hanging. He had to get information on him; at least to put his mind at ease. Perhaps there was nothing. Maybe Irons was just a creepy man who looked at his secretaries but didn't touch. Or, perhaps, he was a rapist whom Umbrella hired, promising him a good career and a clean record, in exchange for a blind eye to the real work they were doing.

Chris, unfortunately, had a hunch his second assumption was correct.

"Do you think we'll get any answers?" Jill asked, breaking Chris from his concentration as he punched in the number for the FPD. Turning around, he shrugged once more, hands stuffed in his pockets as Jill continued to swivel her chair about.

"Maybe. I hope." Chris wasn't counting on it. Knowing what was going on was probably worse by this point in time. He felt like he was sitting on a ticking time bomb, and the fuse was getting shorter and shorter. Umbrella was going to have another outbreak, and soon. He wanted to do something desperately, but he wasn't sure what he should do and if it was even worth it. Maybe Umbrella had them beat… Maybe it was time to give up.

The sound of the fax machine filled the room, and Chris continued to watch Jill, her chair having stopped swivelling. They locked eyes, and he found himself trapped in her fierce blue gaze, and his chest tightened as she stared back.

Before him was his drive; his reason for fighting. Before him was a woman who believed in him despite the monster he hid behind his mask. Jill trusted him; pushed him; showed him that there was something in this world worth fighting for. And Chris desperately wanted to prove to her and everyone else whom he loved, that he was worthy of their affection—that the world was a good place despite the demons that lurked in the shadows and tried to pull you into a world of greed, blood-lust, and desire. He wanted to prove to everyone that the world was worth being a part of, even though men like himself and Wesker walked upon it, not quiet in the shadows, but no longer in the light.

And then it hit him.

Just as he thought about giving up; just as he entertained the idea that this was beyond his limits and Umbrella may have won, he found his drive again. His reason for continuing. He had been dead set on believing the world was out to get him after Wesker ripped his heart out, that he had begun to lose faith in humanity and his fellow man. A very small part of him, a part that he had hid so well and refused to even face himself, thought that perhaps Umbrella was right—perhaps humans were weak and foolish, and deserved the fate that was pressed upon them.

But they weren't. Jill reminded him of this. She was not worthy of that fate, along with millions of other _good_, thoughtful people around the world. It was up to him to defeat Umbrella—it was up to him to protect those who could not protect themselves. For a time, Umbrella was winning, but no longer…

"I have to go," he found himself whispering once the sound of the fax machine stopped, his mouth working before his idea had fully manifested itself.

"Go?"

"I need to go…" Go where, though? To Washington to alert the government? Home to warn his family? Just leave Raccoon City and work out a plan from there? Or… "I need to go to Paris and straight to Umbrella's main headquarters."

"Chris… that's suicide," she said, a frown appearing on her features as a grin spread across Chris'. "You'll get yourself killed."

And he laughed; A real, genuine laugh, one that hadn't been heard for some time. He couldn't help it, and let the sound bubble forward, uninhibited by the horrors he'd been seeing every night for the past two months. "No, no, it's not suicide, Jill. This is going to save me." Hurrying over, he pulled her up before placing a kiss on her forehead. "Guard the citizens of Raccoon for me—we both know that something is going to happen soon."

"C-Chris, are you all right?" she asked, pulling away, a small smile slowly lighting up her face.

Chris didn't reply, and simply kissed her cheeks. "We'll meet up in Paris, once Raccoon is either saved or destroyed. I'll forward you the information of where I'll be once I get it. But I need to go—we need to be a step ahead of them, Jill. We need to bring the fight to Umbrella and not let them make all of the first moves."

Pulling away, he smiled down at Jill—his last link to humanity—and relaxed when she cupped his cheek, her thumb caressing the stubble on his jaw. "Bring the fight to them?"

"Bring it to them," he repeated, and pulled away to head to the door. "I'll meet with you tonight at your apartment. Bring Rebecca and Brad." He didn't even wait for a reply before he left the office and jogged down the checker patterned corridor for the last time. Once he reached the main hall of the station, he searched the desk for a familiar head of brilliant blonde hair, and practically sprinted over to Mindy.

She didn't even have time to say hello before Chris grabbed her hands in between his own and held them tight to his chest. He was half laying on the desk, and people were looking at him oddly, but he didn't care. "Get yourself out of Raccoon, Mindy. Visit your mom or your sister, or even go on a vacation, but you need to get out of Raccoon."

"C-Chris, what's going on?" she asked, her voice a hiss of a whisper as people continued their daily business, but still glanced over at the two of them. "You're making a scene."

"Don't ask questions—the less you know the better. Just get the hell out of here and live your dreams. I know for a fact being an RPD secretary was not your life's ambition. Go out there and get what you deserve, because you deserve a hell of a lot," he said, and kissed her quickly before pulling away.

"Chris!" she called after him as he hurried out of the RPD. "Where are _you_ going?"

"To save the world!" he shouted back, and blew her a kiss. "So get the hell out of Raccoon in case I fuck it up."

* * *

**XX**

* * *

Goodbyes are always hard. Chris had begun to realize this.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" Rebecca asked, her legs curled in on her body as she sat on Jill's couch, eyebrows furrowed. She looked so small, and Chris was once again reminded that she was only eighteen. And he was only twenty-five. "Going alone sounds dangerous."

"Of course it's dangerous," Chris flashed her a quick, relaxed smile, and clasped his hands loosely together. "No one said it was going to be easy, Rebecca. But that's all part of the plan."

"Isn't there a safer way?"

Jill snorted. "I asked him that and was pretty much greeted with the same answer. Face it, Rebecca, he's going to do it."

"You're going, too," Rebecca shot back, glaring at Jill. Jill seemed honestly surprised by the hostile behaviour, while Chris and Brad literally sat back in their chairs to watch.

"I'm only going after I'm sure everything is stable here. We all know staying in Raccoon for too long will get us killed—why not go to Paris when I eventually have to leave?"

"Because you'll get yourself killed!" she cried out, her big blue eyes wide open. "Can't you guys see what you're going? You're going right into the dragon's den with your eyes closed while drenched in blood!" Chris had to laugh at that, but quickly stifled his laughter when Rebecca rounded on him. "And you! You're going into this first, with no backup! And don't tell me Jill, Barry, and Brad will come help you out later, because that is later, not right away!"

"How come you're only worried about Jill and Chris?" Brad cut in, and Rebecca sent him a glare. He simply grinned back.

"Rebecca, you shouldn't worry yourself like this. We've gone too far to just quit now. You knew that soon enough we'd have to stick our necks out again if we were to get anything accomplished," Jill began, sympathy written all over her face. "We're police officers first and foremost, and it's our job to protect."

Rebecca sat still for a moment while her face relaxed a bit, eyebrows separating while her lips pursed then went flat again. "You're all brave idiots," she sighed out, and shook her head. "I'm glad you're the ones doing this, otherwise I'd say you have no hope in hell of winning."

"That's the sort of confidence I like to hear," Chris chimed in, and stood up to raise his hands above his head in a slow stretch. While Rebecca and Jill began to talk about their plans (and eventually such conversations would lead to 'those' sorts of conversations—the ones most men like to leave the room during, lest they be caught rolling their eyes and subsequently castrated), Chris and Brad headed to the balcony in Jill's apartment, the door halfway slid open to allow the cool air from outside into the stuffy apartment.

Stepping onto the concrete pad, Chris went to lean on the black metal railing, elbows pressed into the cold iron as he breathed in the exhilarating smell of city pollution mixed with the overbearing scent of cherry tobacco from the neighbour upstairs. Brad rested next to him, his hands clasped in front. Silence, save for the occasional passing car and the steady hum of conversation from the room over were their only companions, until Brad spoke.

"So… I guess the uniform switch worked for you?"

Nodding, Chris pressed his lips tightly together, wondering if it was worth telling Brad that he had saved the day, and that perhaps he was being too harsh on him. After all, how was the world to forgive him for his sins if he was unwilling to forgive those of another? "Yeah, you thought up a good plan. I was a little worried it wouldn't work, but… well, you managed to pull though."

Brad nodded, and Chris could see his gaze return to the city skyline out of the corner of his eye. A moment passed in which he wrestled with his pride and ego, two things that controlled even the best of men, before speaking once more. "Listen, I want to… apologise for my behaviour over the last few weeks. I've been… unfair."

There, he said it. More importantly, he _meant_ it.

"I… Thanks, Chris," he mumbled, and Chris could almost see and feel the relief coming off of him. "I don't really deserve your apology, but I'll take it. I was… I was horrible back at the mansion. I fucked up."

Well Chris wasn't going to argue with that. "Yeah, you did," he began, and turned to rest one arm on the railing while watching Brad. "But, perhaps, if you had stayed you'd have ended up getting killed like the rest. Or you'd survive and live with the nightmares we all witnessed. Staying behind wouldn't have saved anyone; the dogs were all over that fucking forest and they'd have taken you and anyone in that helicopter out eventually."

"That… might be true. I think you're just trying to ease the situation for both of us, though," Brad said as he rubbed his palms together, a sure sign he was nervous. "I… appreciate it, though."

Nodding, Chris patted Brad on the shoulder. "When you arrive in Paris with Jill you can make up for your follies back at the mansion. You can redeem yourself." _And so can I_, he thought. Brad smiled softly, and let out a low sigh as the two of them returned to the comfortable silence between them.

Eventually they returned to the living room, and Chris headed straight to the door. "I should get going. I've got an early morning tomorrow."

"Yeah, of course. Your flight is at ten in the morning, yes?" Jill asked as she and Rebecca stood and met him at the door.

"Yes, which means I'll be up at the crack of dawn to check in," he answered, slipping his shoes on. Turning around, he hugged Jill quickly before Rebecca pressed her way into his arms.

"Stay safe, yes?"

"Of course. You go home and see your parents," he mumbled, and kissed her cheek along with giving her a tight squeeze. "I hope to see you kicking ass in the future, yeah?"

She laughed gently, and reluctantly removed herself from his embrace. "Of course—I can't let the rest of you save the world without me."

Winking, he ruffled her hair before Brad stepped forward, his hand extended. Glancing at his hand and then back up to Brad, Chris gave him a small but genuine smile, and grasped his in a tight shake. "Take care of yourself."

"You, too. I'll hopefully see you in Paris."

Breaking apart, they nodded briefly to each other in a moment of understanding before Chris opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, ready to make the next step. Turning around, he gave them all one last look, desperately trying to think of something worthy to say. After all, this _could_ be the last time he saw any of them.

"I hope I get a window seat." Was eventually what he settled with.

* * *

**XX**

* * *

'_Flight 233 United Airway to Paris will be departing in ten minutes. Please come to desk number 233 to check in in the next ten minutes. I repeat, flight 233 will be departing in ten minutes.'_

Playing with the photograph in his pocket, Chris watched the airplanes through the large glass windows, his free hand clutching the handle of his bag. He had packed everything that was necessary in the black duffle bag. His entire life contained in a simple carryon case. Closing his eyes, he let the background sound of the airport terminal wash away as his fingers traced the edges of the now worn photograph.

"_Have you ever thought about traveling?" he asked, lips pressed against the back of Wesker's neck, skin and tiny hairs brushing against them. _

"_I've traveled before." Wesker's reply was a soft mumble, his hand resting above Chris' own that was wrapped around his waist. He could feel a thumb gently run along the stretch of skin where joint met palm, and relaxed further._

"_Where?"_

"_England… Spain… Mexico… the United States. Germany and Denmark… Sweden. Italy, Canada, and France."_

"_I've been around the States," Chris replied, and frowned as Wesker shifted, exposing his heated skin to the cool air above the sheets. Pulling away slightly, he let Wesker turn around in his arms so they were facing each other, Chris' eyes open while Wesker's remained closed. "I thought I would see more when I was in the Air Force, but…" He saw the smirk on Wesker's lips and was going to say something, but then a delicate hand came to trace his jawline before running through his tousled hair. Any retort was lost in the caress. _

"_You should travel, if that is what you wish to do."_

"_I don't know where I would go."_

"_Go somewhere that will pull you out of your element. Go someplace that will capture that boyish imagination you still have. Explore, open yourself up to it all," Wesker answered, his voice low and soft, the English spark to his accent illuminating his tone. His eyes opened then, grey searching deep blue. "You deserve to see the world, dear heart."_

"_Will you come with me?" he asked, already knowing the answer. _

_Wesker smiled, and his eyes changed for a moment, an emotion flittering by that Chris thought might be sadness, before it was once again replaced with content drowsiness. "I don't think so."_

"_How come?" he asked, and ran his thumb along Wesker's brow. "You could use the vacation."_

"_Because," he began, pulling Chris close, chin resting atop his head. He could hear Wesker's heartbeat, and breathed in the warm, spicy scent of his skin as he nuzzled the expanse of flesh set before him. "Some journeys in life must be taken alone._"

Sighing, Chris opened his eyes, the warmth and familiarity of Wesker's embrace leaving him, and he once again stood in the middle of the airport terminal. The voice over the intercom reminded him that he had five minutes to catch his flight.

Pulling the photograph out of his pocket, he lifted it up in front of him. The photo was a strange one—a magical one, it seemed. It changed, depending on how he looked at it. When it was taken it represented the love he had in his life, and how nothing could possibly go wrong. Nothing would change and nothing could tear apart the happiness he had found. When the incident happened, it represented the devil and his fiddle. It was the evidence that showed his true nature and exposed Chris to a reality he had refused to face. Now, though… now Chris saw two men; two very different men who had, somehow, found each other and loved one another, no matter how much one of them tried to deny it. It represented Chris' _humanity_, not his monstrous behaviour. It showed that he was capable of happiness and love, compassion and humility. It reminded him that he could love, and that even though he loved a monster, it was no less true than if he had fallen for a princess in a tower. It represented a tale; a story; a journey.

And now that journey was at an end, and Chris had to continue on his own. Grabbing the middle, Chris gave the photo one last look before ripping it in half in one sure stroke, his hands not shaking as he separated the two of them. "Thank you, Wesker," he whispered, and headed to the terminal, tossing the photograph in the garbage as he passed it. He had a world to save, and a new life to claim.

Life is in a constant state of flux, and Chris embraced it.

* * *

_And here we are. The last chapter of _State of Flux_. When I began this story back in November of 2009, I wrote it just for fun and jokingly referred to it as my 'love letter to the character Chris Redfield'. Well, time has passed and with it the story has grown as has my appreciation for all of you who love this wicked fandom along with me. This story grew from a love letter to a single character, and blossomed into a love letter to the entire fandom. I really cannot tell you all how amazing this ride has been thanks to your marvellous heartfelt support. While I have always and will always write for myself first and foremost, the fact that you all were able to come and enjoy the story and my words as much as I did means so much to me. So much. You guys have no idea how bloody brilliant you've all been, and how much I cherish all of you guys. Even the guys who tried to kick me in the proverbial balls on occasion. Without your arsehole behaviour I probably wouldn't have grown such a thick skin as I have in regards to fandom, and the drama that crops up no matter what._

_ I wish I could thank every one of you, but it would be almost impossible. But I want you to know that I really, really do appreciate every single one of you, and if you were to message me out of the blue using your fanfiction user account name, I'd recognize you right away. And reply, of course. We're all in this crazy fandom together, right? I do, however, want to take the time to name a few specific people who really pulled me through everything. **Misspumpkinghead: **Thank you for being my patient, on-time, worked-as-hard-as-I-did, beta. **Richard: **Thank you for listening to me work out my writing issues, and for giving me a ridiculous amount of support in general. **Mina, Tatum, Annie, Mike, Brittney, Carrie, Sarah, Dustin, Jackie, and finally Rosie**: Thank you for supporting me as well as giving me gifts, listening to my rambles, and kicking me upside the head when I needed a swift boot._

_ You are all amazing people, and thank you for sharing in _State of Flux_ with me. You guys made this story what it is. Thank you, thank you, thank you!_


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